


life is a drink (love is a drug)

by fraudulentzodiacs



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Covid-19 mentions, Handfeeding, Love in the Time of Coronavirus, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Miscommunication, Mutual Pining, Nesting, Secret Relationship, aka boys are dumb, but no actual mpreg, mentions of mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:01:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 24,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25006609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fraudulentzodiacs/pseuds/fraudulentzodiacs
Summary: He grabs his phone and pulls up his tracking app. He’d thought he had a week at least, enough time to finish up their short roadie and get back to Philly. His HeatTrackr app confirms his suspicions that he still has a week left, but Travis has been through enough heats since presenting that he knows the signs. He has eight hours, twelve max, before he’s fully in heat. He can make it through the game, but he knows he’ll never make it back to Philly.aka Travis goes into heat unexpectedly and ends up falling in love with the captain of his team's biggest rival.
Relationships: Sidney Crosby/Evgeni Malkin (Past), Sidney Crosby/Travis Konecny, Travis Konecny/Nolan Patrick (past sorta)
Comments: 59
Kudos: 290
Collections: Pucking Rare - A Hockey Rarepair Challenge





	1. Travis

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by [iaintafraidofnoghostbear](https://archiveofourown.org/users/iaintafraidofnoghostbear/pseuds/iaintafraidofnoghostbear) in the [PuckingRare2020](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/PuckingRare2020) collection. 



> Thanks (once again) to @kkane88 for being a fabulous friend and beta and giving me the best feedback, suggestions, and correcting my atrocious use of apostrophes.

They’re ten games into the season when the Flyers head to Pittsburgh for their first matchup. It’s always an emotionally fraught game, the Pennsylvania rivals both desperate to win. Travis feels it like electricity on his skin, when they arrive at the arena for morning skate. He wants to climb the walls, and skates laps around the rink before AV yells at him to calm down and run drills. He manages to take a few shots on Hartsy before he’s drifting again, knocking Coots into the boards before skating away with a laugh. By the end of practice he feels hot all over, and he cranks the shower as cold as it will go. He imagines he could be giving off steam, and he feels a roiling storm that starts at the base of his spine and slowly begins to spread out across his body as he throws on some sweats and a Flyers shirt. He’s throwing a snapback onto his damp hair when it hits him like a lightning bolt, what this feeling reminds him of.

 _Shit_ he curses, throwing his bag down into his stall. He grabs his phone and pulls up his tracking app. He’d thought he had a week at least, enough time to finish up their short roadie and get back to Philly. His HeatTrackr app confirms his suspicions that he still has a week left, but Travis has been through enough heats since presenting that he knows the signs. He has eight hours, twelve max, before he’s fully in heat. He can make it through the game, but he knows he’ll never make it back to Philly. And, even if he could, Patty has been his heat partner for over a year now and there’s no guarantee that he’ll be feeling up to helping him through. His migraines have progressed to the point that he isn’t playing, which also means that fucking Travis for three days is probably out of the question. The rest of the alphas on the team are mated, or close to it, which means that Travis is going to be stuck in a hotel in fucking _Pittsburgh_ to ride out his heat alone.

“Get your ass in gear, Teeks.” G yells from across the locker room.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming.” Travis replies, shoving his phone in his bag and following his captain out of the room.

The game is a fucking shitshow from the first drop of the puck. The Pens score five minutes in, then again three minutes later, then _again_ thirty seconds later. It’s humiliating, and Travis can feel the hot sting of it on top of the growing burn of his heat. He’s started slicking up in his gear, and he has to rest his forehead on the boards as he waits for his shift.

“You okay, Teeks?” Hayesey asks, and his beta scent is calming when he wraps an around Travis’ shoulders.

“Yeah, fine.” He assures him, even though he can feel himself burning up from the inside.

Sidney fucking Crosby scores a few minutes later, and Travis wants to smash his stick.

By the time the second period rolls around, Travis knows he should tell AV what’s going on, get pulled from the game and taken back to the hotel so he can take care of this in peace, but they’re drawing penalties and not getting pucks in net and Travis can’t just _leave_.

He’s on the ice when Farabee sends the puck flying, connecting with Travis’ stick as if there was a magnet. He takes off down the ice, his vision tunneling in the direction of the Pens goal. He sees the white and gold coming toward him, hears Hayesey yelling for him, and Travis sends the puck over to his liney without a thought. He only has a moment to relax before he feels himself being thrown into the boards, the breath leaving his chest in one fast huff. He gets a scent of something gorgeous and raw and _alpha_ and looks up to see Sidney Crosby staring down at him, his pupils dilating as he breathes in what Travis knows are the heat pheromones he must be reeking of.

“What?” Crosby whispers, voice cracking. “What the _fuck_ are you doing on the ice?” He asks quickly, before the ref pulls him away. Travis stares, wide-eyed, as Crosby heads off to the penalty box. He can feel Crosby’s eyes on him the entire way back to the bench, and he flinches away from G’s hand on his shoulder when he sits.

“You okay, Teeks?”

“Yeah,” Travis replies, his eyes drifting over to where Crosby’s sitting out his penalty. “Fine.”

Crosby doesn’t say anything, doesn’t let the refs know that Travis is an omega going into heat, but they still get smacked by the Pens, one goal to their seven. Travis takes his time in the showers, that need in the pit of his stomach growing ever more present. He knows he’s slicking up and the last thing he needs is for someone to smell it on him. All of the alphas on the team that are on the trip are mated, but even a mated alpha would be able to smell it on him at this point.

“Tiki bar!” Hayesey yells into the shower. “You coming or what?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll meet you at the bus,” he calls back, proud of himself for the steadiness in his voice. It seems to satisfy Hayesey, and the showers are quiet once again. He can’t smell anything but his own scent, and suddenly the need to get off is overwhelming. He wraps a hand around himself and nearly collapses against the tiles in relief. It isn’t what he wants – what he _needs_ – isn’t his fingers or a toy or an alpha, but he is sure it will be enough to take the edge off until he can get back to the hotel.

He feels the fire in his belly fade from an all-consuming inferno to a mellow ache, and he takes enough time to wash the evidence off of his belly before slipping back into the empty locker room and changing into the shirt and pants of his suit, his skin too hot to think about wearing the jacket and tie. The hallways outside the locker room are blessedly empty, but Travis keeps his head down anyway. It was probably a poor decision, especially when he feels himself collide with a solid wall of human. His eyes snap up, and he gasps when his senses overload at the scent of _alpha_. He feels Crosby’s hands on his shoulders, and he has to fight the instinct to melt into the other man’s arms.

“Hey, you okay?” Crosby asks, and Travis nods.

“Yeah, just, uh…need to get to the bus.”

“Okay, do you need some help?”

“No, I, uh…” Travis doesn’t realize he has rocked forward until his face is pressed into Crosby’s neck and _holy shit,_ he is _scenting_ Sidney fucking Crosby. He shudders at the intoxicating mix of clean ice and cedar and something darker, richer, like chocolate.

“Hey, um.” He hears Crosby, feels his throat vibrate as he speaks, but all Travis can do is sigh when he feels Crosby’s fingers thread through his hair. “Do you have an alpha on your team? To help you?”

Travis’ mind flies to Patty, all the way in Philly, and he shakes his head.

“You’re pretty far along in your heat already. Do you…I mean…I could help you?”

The rational part of Travis’ brain recoils at the thought of a Pen – of Sidney Crosby – helping him through his heat. He hadn’t even known that Crosby was an alpha until he’d crushed him into the boards. The memory of _that_ has Travis leaning further into Crosby’s space, nodding against his neck.

“I need you to actually consent.” Crosby prods, using the hand in Travis’ hair to tug until Travis can see his face. “I need the words.”

“Yes.” Travis croaks, his voice ragged and broken. “Yes, I accept you.” It’s more formal than anything Travis is used to, more traditional than anything he’s ever said to an alpha before. But he supposes he shouldn’t be surprised that someone who’s such a stick in the mud like Crosby would bring out the more old-fashioned omega in Travis. Crosby nods, and Travis will deny it until the day he dies, but he whines when Crosby pushes them apart. Thankfully, he doesn’t stop touching Travis entirely, keeping a hand on his bicep as he turns them and guids them back toward the Pens’ side of the arena.

“Can you text your team?” Crosby asks. “Let them know you’re okay?”

Travis nods and fumbles his phone out of his pocket. Now that he’s got an alpha touching him, knows that he’s going to get what he needs and soon, his mind has cleared somewhat. Enough to at least fire off a text to G.

**Travis**

_Going n2 heat. Safe. Please don’t tell ne1._

**G Daddy**

_Learn to text in English, Teeks. See you back in Philly, let me know if you need anything._

Travis turns his phone off after that, leaning into Crosby’s side as they walk toward the parking lot. Crosby wraps an arm around his shoulders, and Travis immediately feels more settled. They’re about the same height, so it’s relatively easy to rest his head on Crosby’s shoulder, even if he gets jostled as they walk. Crosby bundles him into the passenger seat of his boring sedan, and Travis presses his forehead against the window as he feels the fever start to return. Crosby keeps a hand on his thigh as he winds through the streets of Pittsburgh, and it grounds Travis just enough.

Once they’re in Crosby’s house, however, Travis feels his heat flare again, his body recognizing that he’s alone in a house with an alpha that’s going to give him what he needs. He grabs the lapels of Crosby’s jacket and pulls until he’s crowding Travis against the wall. He feels more than he hears Crosby growl softly, almost like a pleased hum, and Travis leans in for a kiss that Crosby doesn’t give him. He whines when he feels Crosby wrap his hands around Travis wrists and pull his hands off of him, pressing them into the wall on either side of Travis’ head. Travis moves purely on instinct, baring his throat, and is rewarded by Crosby ducking his head and nosing along the bare, exposed length of Travis’ neck, scenting him.

“You smell so good.” Crosby murmurs, his lips against Travis’ skin, and when his tongue darts out to taste the sweat on Travis’ skin his hips stutter up in an attempt to grind against Crosby.

“Fuck me already.” Travis gripes, feeling himself grow flushed and frustrated.

“We’ll get there,” Crosby promises, dropping kisses down along Travis’ throat and then his collarbone as he undoes the top three buttons of Travis’ shirt. He moves far enough away to slip his hand underneath Travis’ shirt, placing his hand over Travis’ racing heart. His thumb rests in the hollow of Travis’ throat, a subtle show of dominance that has Travis weak in the knees. He groans when Crosby presses his thumb down, just enough to make Travis catch his breath. He can feel himself dripping slick, and he knows that Crosby can smell just how ready he is when he watches Crosby’s pupils dilate. It’s the first show of typical alpha behavior that Travis has seen from Crosby, and it makes the fire burning in his gut grow even stronger, and Crosby’s hand on him is the only thing keeping him from trying to climb the man.

He whines when Crosby leans in for a slow, wet kiss. His tongue slips into Travis’ mouth and it quickly turns filthy, has Travis grinding down on the thigh Crosby shoves between his legs. He feels like he’s going to combust, that the fire inside him is going to destroy him from the inside. He’s already so close just from working himself against Crosby’s thigh, whimpering and writhing like the omega he hates for people to see.

“Are you going to come?” Crosby pulls away from his mouth and trails small, nipping bites up his jaw before taking his ear between his teeth.

“Fuck you.” Travis groans back, hating how he shudders when Crosby chuckles lowly.

“Come on then.” Crosby tells him, grabbing Travis’ hips with his big hands and grinding him down on his thigh, and Travis comes in his pants like he’s a teenager again.

He comes down slowly, the fire mellowed, but he knows his heat won’t break for days, not until he’s been fucked on Crosby’s knot over and over again. His hair is damp with sweat and dangling in his eyes, but he looks up when he feels Crosby bush it back so he can look at him.

“You okay?” He asks, almost gentle, and Travis nods after a moment. “Think we have enough time to eat something before you need to go again?” Travis thinks about using his words, but he’s still a little high so he just nods again. Crosby smiles a little and steps away, smoothing his hands over Travis’ chest.

“There’s some sweats and shirts in the master bedroom, if you want to change. I’ll make some sandwiches.”

The clothes are easy enough to find, but Travis has to dig to find a t-shirt that doesn’t have a goddamn penguin on it. He eventually settles on a worn navy blue one, and gives into the urge to press the fabric to his face. It smells more like detergent than anything else, but there is an underlying remnant of that ice-cedar-chocolate smell that settles Travis. He briefly considers tossing his soiled briefs in Crosby’s dirty laundry, some base part of him reveling in the idea of mingling his scent with Crosby’s before dropping them in the wastebasket.

Crosby’s plating two towering sandwiches when Travis makes his way into the kitchen, and he also spies a pile of protein bars and Gatorades. Crosby follows his gaze and hands him the sandwich.

“To take up to the room later. We might not be able to make it back down here again.”

“Thank you,” Travis tells him and watches a flash of satisfaction cross Crosby’s face. He’s reminded of how proud alphas get when they please an omega in heat, when they prove that they can provide and make an omega happy. This might be an ‘any port in the storm’ situation, but Travis is already sure that Crosby’s a good alpha, that he’s going to make this as easy and enjoyable for them both as he possibly can. He follows Crosby to the breakfast bar and sits down next to him, and they eat in silence until Travis has finished off the sandwich, a sleeve of crackers that Crosby produced from somewhere, half a carton of strawberries, and two Gatorades. Heat always takes a lot out of him, and this one hasn’t even started yet.

He lets Crosby clean up after them, then helps him carry their supplies up to the master bedroom.

“How long do your heats usually last?” Crosby asks, stripping the blanket and top sheet and tossing them to the floor.

“Like, three days?” Travis hadn’t even thought about how troublesome this would be for the superstar, missing games because his opponent is in heat.

“Okay, so pretty standard.” Crosby nods, seemingly unfazed. “Anything you want to tell me? Anything I should know? Anything you want or don’t want?”

“Nah, I’m easy bud,” Travis shrugs, and Crosby rolls his eyes.

“I’ve played against you for years, Konecny. You’re anything but easy.”

“With this, I am.” Travis crowds up against Crosby’s back, nipping at his shoulder through his shirt. Now that they’re up here, a bed right in front of them, Travis can feel that familiar ache returning, sparks that begin at the base of his spine and work their way up slowly. Crosby turns in his arms, hands on Travis’ waist, and rotates them until he can push Travis down on the bed. He unbuttons his shirt, raising an eyebrow until Travis pulls his own shirt over his head. He gasps when Crosby climbs on top of him, covering him. He’s not that much taller than Travis, but he’s broader, solid in a way that has Travis wanting him to put his entire weight on him.

Travis loses all sense of time as his heat hits full force. He knows that he comes at least three times before Crosby finishes the first time, and cleans Travis up before they both pass out. It’s a blur, after that. He vaguely remembers rutting up against a sleeping Crosby, who reaches over and jacks him off without ever really waking up. They fuck again at some point during the night, and he rides Crosby as daylight starts peeking through the windows.

They must sleep for a longer stretch of time after that, because Travis is starving when he wakes up again. Crosby is awake, and hands him a protein bar and a Gatorade without a word. Travis breaks off a piece and stares at it, brow furrowed, until Crosby takes it gently away from him.

“Do you want me to…?” He asks, gesturing to Travis’ mouth.

“Uh…yeah. Yes.” Travis hasn’t had many heat partners in his life, and none of them had been into the handfeeding thing, finding it too traditional and stereotypical. Travis tends to agree, but Travis in heat revels in the idea. He opens his mouth, keeping eye contact with Crosby as he slips the piece between Travis’ lips. Something in Travis settles, and he lets Crosby feed him a few more pieces before Crosby grabs the unopened Gatorade and tips it against Travis’ lips. He turns away to set everything back on the nightstand and Travis leans back against the pillows and watches Sid’s back.

“Thanks, Crosby,” he says when the other man turns back to face him.

“We’re going through heat together; I think you can call me Sid,” Cros – Sid teases him.

“Teeks, then. Or Travis, but only my mom calls me that.”

“Teeks?” Sid scrunches up his nose, and Travis refuses to find it cute. “That’s a dumb nickname.”

“Well, Hayesey calls me Tikibar.” Travis shrugs, then laughs when Sid rolls his eyes and climbs over Travis.

“Okay, Teeks it is.” He says, then kisses him hard and deep.

Travis falls asleep again after two more rounds and wakes up sometime in the afternoon to Sid practically humping his leg.

“Sid?” He asks, trying to break through the fog of heat and sleep.

“I..” Sid’s voice is choked, his grip so tight on Travis’ waist that he can barely move. “I need…”

“Are you in rut?” Travis gasps, and Sid nods against his arm. “Are you supposed to be?”

“Not for months.” Sid groans, and Travis’ mind spins. It’s not unheard of for an omega’s heat to trigger a sympathy rut, but usually it only happens when a pair has been bonded, or at least together, for a long time. They’ve only been fucking for a day and he’s – somehow – managed to send Sid into rut. He turns his head enough to lock eyes with Sid and twists so that Sid can slide inside him easily.

Travis’ heat breaks two days later, but they have to ride out Sid’s rut for another day and a half. He misses two games, Sid misses one, and somehow manages to convince his coach that he can fly to Boston and play the next day. Travis has next to nothing to pack, his bag having been loaded on the bus and G texting him to tell him that he’d grabbed his suitcase and took it back to Philly. He scrolls through his flight options while sitting at Sid’s breakfast counter eating his third bowl of whatever gross healthy cereal Sid had in his pantry.

“There’s a flight at two this afternoon I can catch back to Philly,” he informs Sid, his mouth full. Sid’s nose scrunches, but there’s a hint of a smile so Travis calls it a win.

“Our flight doesn’t leave until later in the afternoon, I can drop you on the commercial side on my way.”

“Thanks.” Travis moves to take his bowl to the sink, but Sid snatches it up to wash himself. Travis chalks it up to Sid’s alpha-ness still wanting to take care of the omega he got through heat. Travis is man enough to admit it was probably the most enjoyable heat he’d ever been through. They had been more compatible than Travis had ever thought they could be – so much, he reasoned, that it had triggered Sid’s sympathy rut. Speaking of…

“You know…” Travis begins, leaning over the breakfast counter so he can see Sid’s back where he was washing the dishes. “We were, like, crazy compatible. You said your rut’s supposed to be in a few months. I was thinking, if you wanted, I could help you through it. You know, pay back the favor.” Travis watches as the muscles in Sid’s back tense, and suddenly Travis feels uncomfortable for the first time since this started. “I mean, or not. If you, like, have someone who you usually…”

“I don’t,” Sid replies, still not facing Travis. “I don’t have someone. And you’re right, we were…it was good, eh?” He finally turns, and Travis can’t read his face, but he doesn’t think that Sid’s upset or blowing him off.

“Real good,” Travis confirms, giving Sid an easy smile.

“Then, yeah. I’ll let you know when I start seeing the signs.”

“Cool. I’m gonna go get dressed.” Travis throws himself out of the stool and bounces off toward the bedroom.

Sid’s notorious for being anti-technology, but he still gives Travis his number as he drops him off at the departures area. There’s no affectionate goodbye – they’re not a _couple_ for fuck’s sake, they’re heat partners at best – but Travis still sends him a picture of the kid at his gate with a Pens shirt on while he’s waiting for his flight.

**Travis**

_Hanging with the enemy_

**SC**

_Didn’t you do a lot of that the last few days?_

**Travis**

_Not like you weren’t doing the same_

**SC**

_My great shame._

Travis takes a bad selfie of himself frowning, sends it, and Sid doesn’t respond, but he doesn’t overthink it. Sid doesn’t seem like the selfie type, anyway.

He makes it back to Philly early enough to collapse in his bed and sleep for twelve hours before he has to get up for optional skate. He thinks about skipping it, but he _did_ disappear and then miss two games, so he grabs his bag and heads to the Skate Zone. Hayesey heralds his return, his voice booming across the locker room and causing everyone to turn to look at him. Travis bows dramatically before turning to his stall and stripping out of his street clothes. G’s waiting for him when he’s got all of his gear on, arms crossed but face blank.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, fine. Sorry for, like, disappearing, eh? It just…it came on early, you know?”

“You should have told someone.”

“There wasn’t a point. Look, I took care of it. It won’t happen again. I’m sorry.”

“You think…you think I’m mad at you for going into heat? Teeks, it happens. I just wish you would have said something. We could have found you a heat partner. You didn’t have to go through all that alone.”

“I didn’t,” Travis admits, feeling his cheeks heat up. “Go through it alone.”

“Oh.” G’s voice is soft, then he clears his throat and a small smile appears on his face. “Good, okay. You were…safe?”

“Are you really going to give me the safe heat sex talk, G? I’m a grown boy.”

“Could’ve stood to grow a bit more,” G chirps, ruffling Travis’ hair. Travis bumps his shoulder against G’s before bouncing out ahead of him toward the ice.

It feels good, to be back on the ice, like he’s settling into his skin again. There’s always a feeling like coming down off of a particularly good high in the days after his heat breaks, that makes him feel antsy and uncomfortable. On the ice though, surrounded by his boys, he feels more like himself. He chirps Coots and Ghost, hovers around Hartsy – the only other omega on the team – and he can’t wipe the smile off of his face even after he showers and changes back into his street clothes. They aren’t playing the Canes until the next day, so he doesn’t hesitate to follow Hayesey to his house to pester Patty into eating lunch with them. He’s having a good day, head wise, and Travis is practically bouncing in the backseat of Hayesey’s car on the way to grab off-plan burgers.

“You smell weird,” Patty grumbles from the passenger seat, glaring at Travis.

“He does?” Hayesey is a beta, and sometimes Travis is jealous that he doesn’t have to deal with the mindfuck that is scenting emotions.

“I, uh…went into heat while we were in Pitt.”

“Oh.” Travis watches Patty’s nostrils flare and he squirms under the attention. “You found a heat partner there?”

“Yeah.” Travis can hear the wariness in his voice. Patty isn’t a possessive alpha, but he _has_ been Travis’ heat partner since he’d arrived in Philly. They date other people, it’s definitely no strings attached, but you can’t always predict how an alpha will react to another alpha encroaching on something – or someone – they consider theirs. Patty huffs out a breath before turning back to face the street.

“Hmmm. Well they definitely scented you fucking good.” Hayesey barks out a laugh while Travis just feels smug at the idea of Sid’s scent lingering on him.

**Travis**

_Patty says I smell weird. Thnx bud._

**Sid**

_Does he know who you were with?_

**Travis**

_Nah just knows I was with someone._

**Sid**

_Have to do a more thorough job next time, then._

Travis feels his cheeks heat up, and he’s grateful that Hayesey parks the car so he doesn’t have time to respond, pocketing his phone and following his boys into the restaurant.

The weeks pass, they get deep into the season, and Travis finds himself lost to the never-ending routine of practice-games-sleep-travel-practice-games-sleep. Sid’s a more avid texter than Travis ever would have given him credit for. Travis sends him funny memes and pictures, and while Sid doesn’t reciprocate, he always responds. He’ll tell him funny stories from the Pens’ antics, pranks, jokes, and generally idiotic behavior. They’re Travis’ rival team, but he can’t help but become slightly fond after seeing them through Sid’s eyes. He finds himself increasingly fond of _Sid_ , and isn’t that a fucking kick in the head. _The_ Sidney Crosby, savior of hockey himself, captain of the team Travis hates most in the world, and they’re….friends? Friends, he settles on. He hasn’t had many heat partners, but he doesn’t think all partner relationships are like this. He’s like this with Patty, of course, but Patty is _Patty_ and they were friends before they’d ever ridden out a heat or rut together. This is different, but Travis finds he doesn’t really mind. It feels right, despite how odd it is.

They’re on a west coast roadie that will put them in LA for New Year’s Eve, and the team are already planning an epic blowout at a club. Travis snaps a picture of the view from his hotel room and sends it to Sid with a string of sun emojis. Travis doesn’t get a reply before their game against Anaheim, but he’s riding high on their OT win so he doesn’t think twice about calling Sid on the way to the bar the team had picked to celebrate their win. It rings so long that Travis thinks it’s going to go to voicemail, but a gravelly-voiced Sid finally answers.

“Hey,” He greets, and Travis’ brow furrows.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I uh…I’m going into rut,” Sid admits.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Travis turns into the door of the uber, pressed against the door by Hartsy and Hayesey. “I would’ve been there.”

“I didn’t start showing signs until you had already left. And you’re on a roadie, it’s fine. I’ll be okay.”

“You’re going to try to ride it out alone?”

“That’s what I did before, it’ll be fine.”

“When was the last time you didn’t go through this alone?” Sid’s quiet on the other end of Travis’ phone for a long time.

“Four years.” Sid finally tells him, and Travis sucks his breath through his teeth. “So, you see, it’ll be okay. Don’t feel bad, you can’t help it that you’re on the other side of the country.”

“Okay,” Travis says uncertainly.

“I saw your game. Go enjoy, you all earned it.”

“How hard was that for you to admit?” Travis teases, and Sid’s dark chuckle sends chills down Travis’ spine.

“Extremely. Have fun, Teeks.” Sid tells him, then hangs up. The uber pulls up to the club and his teammates pile out, but Travis opens the rideshare app on his phone.

“Hey,” he yells out to Hayesey. “I’m gonna head back to the hotel, I’ve gotta take care of something.”

“You want me to come with?” Hayesey asks, and Travis shakes his head.

He calls G, then AV, trying to be as vague as possible about why he needs to miss the next couple of games. G is understanding, AV’s furious, but they agree to say that he’s out with an upper body injury (“because somethings wrong with you goddamn head” G tells him). Once he’s back in his hotel room, he stuffs his clothes in his bag and scrolls through flights, finally finding one red eye that only has a short layover in Detroit. It’ll put him in Pittsburgh at an ungodly hour of the morning, but he books it anyway.

He doesn’t tell Sid, because he knows the man will tell him to stay with his team, but a promise is a promise and Travis Konecny is a man of his word. He manages to sleep for most of the flight to Detroit, but the short jump from Detroit to Pittsburgh is a lost cause, and he buys the biggest coffee he can on his way out of the airport. He drinks it quickly on the ride to Sid’s house, and finally texts Sid to open the gate once the uber drops him off. He stands outside of Sid’s gate awkwardly, bags in hand, until the gate swings open. Sid’s not waiting on the other side, but Travis isn’t surprised. He makes his way to the front door and finds it unlocked, so he steps inside. Sid’s waiting near the entryway, eyes wide and sweat glistening on his skin.

“What are you doing here?”

“I said I’d be here for your rut, so.” Travis drops his bags and opens his arms. “Here I am.”

“Travis, you’re supposed to be in California-“

“They took me out, ‘upper body injury.’”

“You shouldn’t risk your career for-“

“Hey, I’m here, you’re in rut.” Travis interrupts, stepping into Sid’s space. He can smell Sid’s arousal, and it makes something curled up and sleeping inside of Travis’ gut flare to life. “Are you going to use me or not?”

Something flashes in Sid’s eyes, and Travis feels one arm wrap around his waist and tug him closer.

“Can’t believe you,” Sid mutters before fisting his hand in Travis’ shirt and crashing their lips together. Travis opens up for him, lets Sid control the kiss. He whimpers when he feels Sid’s tongue swipe across this lip, then Sid bites him, demanding entrance.

Travis lets him, his hands scrambling up Sid’s arms to wrap around his neck. Something in Sid seems to snap, and Travis moans as Sid grasps Travis’ thighs and lifts him up, twisting until he can slam Travis against the wall, pinning him there. Travis pushes his hands into Sid’s hair, tugging until Sid grunts and releases him from the kiss.

“We need a bed. I was on a plane all night; I’m not fucking you against a wall.” Travis pants, then smirks. “At least, not right now.”

Sid lets him down, but keeps a hand wrapped around his waist as he tugs Travis upstairs, stopping every few steps to press into Travis’ space and kiss him stupid.

“I missed you,” Sid whispers against Travis’ neck, dropping little biting kisses – not a bonding bite, Travis’ mind thinks hazily, a little sadly and…what the fuck? He shakes it off, lets Sid pull him into his bedroom and slam the door behind him. When Travis locks eyes with Sid, he’s suddenly never felt more like prey – more like an omega – in his life. He shivers with it, pulls his shirt over his head as Sid stalks closer, gasps when Sid grasps him by the shoulders and shoves until Travis is spread out on the bed, staring up, and all he can think is _alpha_ as Sid covers Travis’ body with his own.

Travis is pretty sure Sid’s rut truly starts somewhere in the middle of the afternoon, when Sid knots him for the second time and it takes nearly half an hour for it to go down. Ruts are different from heats, a little less intense, and Sid passes out long enough for Travis to go downstairs and put together some kind of lunch for them. His inner omega has recognized that he’s with a rutting alpha, driving him to want to care for and please his alpha. Once he has the soup his mom taught him how to make simmering on the stovetop, he finds himself wandering the house.

Sid’s house is clean, simple, almost impersonal in a way that tells Travis that it was professionally decorated. There are little hints here and there – a picture of Sid and Taylor in the entryway, one of the Pens with the Cup (Travis isn’t jealous) in the entertainment room. Sid’s scent is everywhere, though, in everything, and it’s soothing and weirdly familiar. Travis finds himself grabbing a blanket off of the back of the couch, a throw pillow, a coat from the closet near the front door, a glove from Sid’s hockey bag. It’s not until he’s carrying them all upstairs into the bedroom that he realizes what he’s doing. Sid’s awake, showering from the sounds Travis can hear in the bathroom, and Travis tosses his items on the bed before going for his own bag, pulling out a few shirts and a pair of pants and mixing them with the Sid stuff on the bed. He moves and rearranges them all to his satisfaction, spreading the coat across his side of the bed, piling his shirts on Sid’s side. It’s not the greatest nest, but it’s enough to settle something in Travis.

Sid comes out of the bathroom, dripping wet and wrapped in only a towel. They’re the same height, but Sid is _solid_ and seeing all of that solidness wet and pink from the shower has Travis licking his lips, eyes roving. Sid preens under the attention, his chest puffing up as he pulls Travis into his arms.

“You’re wet,” Travis grumbles, but tips his neck back so Sid can scent him.

“You like it,” Sid tells him, having figured out that Travis likes to be bitten, dropping a particularly strong one under his jaw.

“I made soup.”

“And a nest. Such a good omega.” Sid growls, and this time it’s Travis that preens. He’s never been a typical, traditional omega, but something about knowing that his alpha thinks he’s doing a good job of taking care of him during his rut makes something serene settle in his chest. “Do we have time?” He asks, and cups Travis’ ass so he can pull Travis flush against him, his erection pressing into Travis’ hip.

“We definitely have time,” Travis replies, reaching between them to rip the towel from Sid’s waist.

They make their way downstairs later, and Sid doesn’t say anything when Travis snatches one of Sid’s shirts, but he does run a hand down Travis’ spine and scents the spot behind Travis’ ear. Travis stays close even as he serves the soup, running his hand through Sid’s hair as he sets it down in front of him. He takes a seat next to Sid instead of across the table so he can press against him as they eat. It’s typical omega behavior during ruts, but Travis hasn’t ever felt an urge this strong while riding one out with Patty or his past heat partners. He wonders if this is more of a _SidandTravis_ thing than an omega thing. Not that there’s a _SidandTravis_ , of course. Still, it seems to be doing the job of keeping Sid’s mood even, keeps his libido under control, so he stays close. Sid lifts a spoonful of the soup and holds it up for Travis, which…Travis has never craved the handfeeding thing outside of heat.

“You don’t have to,” Sid tells him, but Travis just grins and opens his mouth. Something soft crosses Sid’s features and he slips the spoon into Travis’ mouth. Travis isn’t sure what he expected, but Sid seems pleased and leans over to drop a kiss on his cheek and Travis feels like he’s accomplished something _great_.

When Sid suggests a movie, Travis curls up until his side, nudging until Sid wraps an arm around his shoulders. He rubs Sid’s stomach, and gets a pleased rumble in response that has Travis smiling into Sid’s shoulder.

Travis must doze off at some point, because he wakes up to Sid panting against his neck, manhandling him into Sid’s lap. Travis goes easily, feeling himself slick up as Sid squeezes his ass.

“Fuck yeah.” Travis groans, driving his hips down into Sid’s erection.

“You’re so hot,” Sid mumbles against his collarbone. “You smell so good. How do you smell so good?”

“Hngh.” Travis responds eloquently.

“Best thing I’ve ever smelled,” Sid whispers, and Travis can’t stop the whimper that escapes his mouth.

“Fuck me,” He begs, crawling off of Sid’s lap long enough to rip his shorts off. “Please, please, Sid c’mon.”

“Yeah.” Sid manages to get his own shorts off before Travis scrambles back into his lap. “Yeah.”

Travis loses track of how many times Sid knots him over the next couple of days. They’re lost in a haze of eating-sleeping-fucking with some television in between when Sid’s settled enough to just _be_. His rut finally breaks, and they come up for air long enough to realize that they’ve missed New Year’s.

“When’s your next game?” Sid asks as they bask in the afterglow of their last go round. His fingers are tracing idle patterns into Travis’ arm while Travis has plastered himself across Sid’s body. His body hurts in all the best ways, and part of him is sad that Sid’s rut is over.

“Uh, we’re in Vegas tomorrow, but I don’t have to be back until we play the Yotes in a few days.”

“We’re playing the Sharks at home tomorrow.”

“Are you going to be okay to play?”

“Yeah, I feel great.” There’s a smile in Sid’s voice, and Travis has to twist his head so he can see it.

“Me too.” He admits softly.

“You should try to find a flight to Vegas, you could make the game.”

“I thought…” Travis starts, then has to look away from Sid’s face. “I thought maybe I’d stay here, make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m fine, though.” Sid insists. “You should be with your team.”

Sid’s right, Travis thinks. He _should_ want to go join his team, especially since they lost the game against the Kings while he was here in Pittsburgh. He wants to be with his boys, but he also wants to be _here_ , and isn’t that a fucking problem? He gets up and walks stark naked into the en suite bathroom, determined to wash the sweat and come and slick off of his body. He reaches for the shampoo to wash his dirty, greasy hair when he feels Sid step into the shower with him, grabbing the bottle.

“Let me,” He orders softly, and Travis leans his head back as Sid starts to massage the shampoo into his scalp. It feels so good, Sid’s hands on him, with an added layer of _alpha_ taking care of him after Travis took care of _him_ . He lets Sid rinse his hair, then turns in his arms so he can kiss him. It’s different from the heated kisses Sid had been giving him for days. This is softer, more familiar, and it makes Travis weak in the knees which he _hates_. He’s spent years proving that he was just as tough as the alpha and beta players, but tender kisses from Sidney Crosby have him wanting to go to his knees right there in the shower.

They dry themselves off, get dressed, and make their way downstairs. Sid digs out the makings of a salad and Travis grabs protein shakes for both of them. This time, Travis chooses to sit across from Sid, and he thinks maybe he sees a flash of disappointment cross Sid’s features. It gives him a little hope, a little courage, for what he wants to ask Sid. He can barely finish the shake he’s so nervous, but he forces the nerves down. He’s Travis Konecny, goddamn it. He’s twenty-two years old, he’s a Flyer, he proved everyone who said he couldn’t be an elite forward because of his dynamic wrong, he’s a fucking _catch_ and he can absolutely ask the Savior of Hockey to be his boyfriend.

“Hey,” he finally gets out, and grimaces at the crack in his voice. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” Sid confirms, though he looks unsure.

“This has been good, eh? Like, my heat and your rut? We’ve been, like, crazy stupid compatible.”

“Yeah,” is all Sid gives him, but he’s not shutting Travis down, so he continues.

“And, I mean, the other stuff has been good too, right? The texts, the phone calls. I mean…I like you, Sid. Like, as a person or whatever. You’re cool.”

“Yeah, you’re cool, too Teeks.” Sid’s grin is small and a little shy, a little placating.

“Duh.” Travis replies around a mouthful of salad. “But, like, I was thinking – I was hoping – maybe we could, like, go on a date? Like, a real one. Or, y’know, more than one date.”

He forces himself to keep his eyes on Sid, and he thinks he sees a few different emotions cross his face. For a second there’s something fond, happy, pure; then he sees Sid’s face shutter, and Travis hasn’t watched a ton of Sid’s interviews, but he’s seen enough to recognize his neutral media face. It makes something in Travis’ gut twist, and he knows what’s coming.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Sid tells him, his tone flat.

“Why? We’re good together. Why shouldn’t we see where this goes?”

“You’re young, Trav. You don’t know-“

“I’m twenty-two, asshole, I’m not twelve.”

“Don’t get angry.” Sid’s still using that monotone voice and Travis is alternating between wanting to flip the table to get him to show some emotion and to curl up in a ball and maybe cry because his feelings are hurt.

“I’m not angry. I just don’t understand. I like you; I know you like me-“

“I do.”

“So, what’s the problem?”

“I’m not – I don’t want a relationship.”

“With me.” Travis finishes, and Sid shakes his head.

“With anyone.” Sid corrects, and Travis stares at his half-eaten salad for a long moment before nodding.

“I think you were right; I should get back to my team.”

“Teeks-“

“Don’t follow me upstairs.” Travis orders him. It’s Sid’s house, he’s an alpha, he could do what he wants, but Travis thinks he knows Sid well enough to know that he will respect Travis’ wishes.

He digs his phone out of his jeans once he’s upstairs, ignores the texts and calls from his teammates and family, and instead finds a flight to Vegas that leaves in three hours. He books it, closes his phone, and stuffs his things into his bag. His eyes linger on what’s left of his nest on Sid’s bed. The sight of it makes Travis want to curl up in it, melt into their mingled scents until he feels calm, connected again. But Sidney doesn’t _want_ him, not like _that_ , just as a heat partner. So, instead, he’s going to go to Vegas and be with his boys, lick his wounds thousands of miles away from the nest he built.

When he goes downstairs, Sid’s nowhere to be found. He can tell that the alpha is still in the house, but he’s very obviously giving Travis the space to leave without an awkward goodbye, so Travis leaves without a word.

Travis makes it Vegas, joining his boys just in time for them to lose 5-4. They drop two more, only winning one game on their west coast roadie, and they return to Philly frustrated and disappointed.

They get back from Raleigh in the middle of the night, and Travis barely has the energy to get to his bedroom, much less mope over Sid’s rejection. He hadn’t texted Travis since he’d left Sid’s house, and Travis isn’t really surprised. Sid was always more of a responder when it came to their texts, and it left Travis wondering if Sid had just been humoring him all this time. It makes something ugly and uncomfortable swirl in Travis’ gut, so he chooses to ignore it in favor of passing out on the bed between one breath and the next.

Travis scores the opening goal against the Caps the next night, slipping one past Holtby that has G crashing into him in celebration. Backy and Vrana get the Caps in the lead by the end of the first, but Hayesey gets an absolutely filthy goal that has Travis and his teammates screaming from the bench. They win, and breaking their four-game losing streak is good enough of a reason as any to go out and celebrate. They end up at a pretentious as fuck club, but they have a table full of drinks and Travis doesn’t hesitate, proceeding to get drunk as he can since they don’t have a game for three days. He ends up sprawled against G, rubbing his cheek against his captain’s shirt.

“Ew, stop, you still smell like that weird alpha,” G complains, but doesn’t shove him away. The reminder of Sid has Travis burrowing further into G’s space, and G’s scent turns to something sharper, more concerned. “What happened?”

“He doesn’t want me,” Travis murmurs, but he’s close enough that G can hear him over the music.

“You sure as hell don’t smell like he doesn’t want you.”

“He only wants me as a heat partner. Not…” Travis trails off and shrugs, and G wraps an arm around Travis’ shoulders. G’s scent is comforting, familiar, non-threatening since there is the constant undercurrent of Ryanne thanks to their bond.

“You want to date him?” Travis nods. “And he doesn’t?” Travis shakes his head. “Well, then he’s an idiot.”

“Might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me, G.” Travis teases, but doesn’t leave the safety of G’s arms.

“Yeah, well, you’re a pain in the ass but you’re _my_ pain in the ass, so point me in the direction of who I need to beat up.”

“You’re the best.” Travis smiles, maybe his first genuine smile since leaving Pittsburgh.

Travis watches the days tick down to when the Pens will make their way to Philly. It’s their last game before the All-Star break, and the reminder of _that_ – that Travis is representing his team in St. Louis – sparks a whole new wave of nerves. He half-expects – half hopes – that Sid will text him when they come to town. When he doesn’t, Travis does his best to not let it bother him. They’re in the second period, up by one, and Travis doesn’t see the hit coming until Letang has him pressed up against the boards. He feels the breath leave his lungs and can’t hold himself upright when Letang skates away. He collapses to his knees, trying to force himself to breathe. The refs don’t call the whistle, but a familiar scent rushes by him and he only has time to lift his head before he watches Sid slam his own teammate into the boards.

“What the _fuck_?” Letang roars, and there’s a hint of alpha in his voice that shudders through Travis. Provy skates up to him, getting his hand underneath his arm so he can pull him up. Sid is inches from Letang’s face, and Travis is pretty sure that Sid is growling at his teammate and fellow alpha.

“You okay?” Provy asks, and Travis nods, his eyes never leaving Sid. Sid finally lets go of Letang’s jersey when the linesmen skate up to try to separate all of them. Sid locks eyes with Travis for a fleeting moment, and Travis forces himself to skate toward his bench before he can give himself away. He refuses to give Sid the satisfaction.

“What the hell is wrong with you, Crosby?” He hears the Pens coach yell, and Travis can’t hear Sid’s response, but he can’t help but smile a little anyway.

They shut out the Pens, and the boys want to go out and celebrate but Travis honestly wants nothing more than to go home and be alone. He’s still trying to figure out why Sid would attack his own teammate like that for a clean hit against Travis. It’s out of character for Sid, who’s such a low-key, under the radar alpha that half the league probably thinks that he’s a beta. Patty’s on his couch when he gets home, bowl of popcorn in his hands and NHL network on the television.

“What are you doing here?” He greets, and Patty doesn’t even turn his head to greet Travis.

“Couldn’t stay in the house anymore.”

“How’s your head?” He asks, grabbing a beer from the fridge. Patty shrugs, but the fact that he’s here and not buried under a pile of blankets trying to block out all light and sound is a good sign. He grabs a bottle of water for Patty, too, and jostles his best friend when he collapses – maybe a little too hard – onto the couch. Patty glares but takes the water that Travis offers.

“Good game.” Patty tells him, and it’s Travis’ turn to shrug.

“That hit from Letang looked rough.” Travis just opens his beer and doesn’t answer. “Crosby seemed pretty pissed about it.”

Travis shifts, takes a sip, and watches the highlights of the Jets-Canes game.

“Is he who you rode your heat out with?” Patty finally asks, quiet. “The one you left the roadie to be with?” Travis picks at the label on his bottle, chews his bottom lip.

“You can’t tell anyone, Patty.”

“Why the fuck would I?” He snaps, and Travis throws his hands up.

“I don’t know! It just…it doesn’t even matter, it’s over.”

“I can’t believe you fucked a hockey god.” Patty snorts, and Travis would really tackle him to the ground if he wasn’t afraid of Patty hitting his stupid, precious head.

“Shut the fuck up!” Travis settles for digging his elbow into Patty’s side until he punches Travis’ arm. “Like you don’t want to get all up on Toews.”

“It’s impressive, though, Teeks.” Patty ignores his chirp about Patty’s crush on Jonathan Toews. “Way to aim high.”

“Yeah, well, I also ride out heats with you, so I can’t get much lower.”

“Please.” Patty scoffs. “You love me.”

Travis stares at Patty out of the corner of his eye before he decides _fuck it_ and climbs into Patty’s lap. They’re never like this outside of heat or rut, but he just…he needs to feel close to someone. Patty doesn’t seem to mind, wrapping his arms around Travis’ back and rubbing. He seems to be able to read what Travis needs – one of the reasons why he had always been such a good heat partner for Travis – and after a moment he grabs Travis’ chin and tilts his neck back so he can rub his face on Travis’ neck. Travis sighs, lets himself sink into the familiarity of it all. There’s a low buzz of arousal building in his belly, and he thinks about grinding down into Patty’s lap until Patty pulls away, his nose scrunched up.

“Teeks?” He asks, and Travis shakes his head enough to clear the fog building in his brain to focus on Patty. “You said it’s over, with you and Crosby?”

“Yeah, it has been for a few weeks.”

“Dude, you smell…” Patty starts, and Travis scoffs.

“There’s no way I still smell like him.”

“But you _do_.” Patty insists. “I mean, I don’t know what Crosby smells like, but you smell like another alpha. Like…like how Ryanne smells like G.”

“But…Ry and G are bonded.”

“Yeah and, like, it’s different. You don’t smell bonded, exactly, but his scent is, uh… _lingering_.”

“What the fuck.” Travis murmurs, and climbs off of Patty’s lap. “How is that even possible?”

“I don’t know, but the scent is there.” Patty replies, and Travis grabs one of the throw pillows that came with the couch and smashes it into his face to muffle his screams.

“What even happened with you guys?” Patty asks once Travis has removed the pillow from his face and proceeded to collapse onto the couch, stretching until he can put his head in Patty’s lap.

“Rub my head,” Travis orders, and closes his eyes when Patty threads his fingers through Travis’ freshly washed hair, scratching his blunt nails across his scalp. “It was stupid, bud.”

“Well, you’re pretty stupid, so.”

“Shut up. I’m trying to like, be emotionally vulnerable with you and shit.”

“Sorry, carry on.”

“Anyway. I may have, like, asked him to be my boyfriend or some shit after his rut ended.”

Patty’s fingers in his hair tighten, tugging his hair slightly. “And he said no?”

“He said he didn’t want a _relationship_. It was embarrassing as fuck.”

“Well, fuck him, though. You’re fucking awesome, and he’s missing out.”

“You wanna be my boyfriend, Patso?” Travis looks up just in time to see Patty roll his eyes and throw him onto the floor. Travis manages to grab Patty’s shirt before he can get completely bucked off and pulls Patty down with him. Patty glares at him but lets his full weight press Travis into the floor.

“We would kill each other if we were dating.” Patty tells him, which – Travis agrees. He loves Patty more than almost anyone in the world, and they’re great heat partners, but he knows in his bones that they were never meant to be more than best bros. Still, he wraps his legs around Patty’s waist and tugs him down until Travis can use his weight to roll them, Travis landing on top. He grins triumphantly down at Patty, who rolls his eyes again. “You’re the worst.”

“I’m the best.” Travis corrects him, and yelps when Patty bucks him off and sends him sprawling to the floor. “Fucking alpha strength, that’s cheating!”

Before Patty can respond his head whips around and toward the door, his muscles tensing. Travis catches the scent a moment later – a familiar ice-cedar-chocolate that has Travis scrambling to his feet.

“Is that-“ Patty asks, and Travis nods. “Do you want me to kick his ass?”

“I think they put you in jail for that at home. That’s, like, Canada’s ass. You’d be exiled for sure.”

“Travis, focus.”

“Right, right, right. Do I, uh, answer the door?”

“Are you going to leave Sidney Crosby standing in the hallway?”

“Right, yeah.” Travis runs his hands through his hair, clean but mussed by Patty’s fingers and their tussle on the floor. Patty collapses back onto the couch, and Travis raises an eyebrow.

“What?”

“You’re just gonna _stay_ here?”

“I’m an alpha, he already knows that I’m here.” Patty points out, his voice flat.

“I knew that.” Travis turns to the door just as Sid knocks. Travis runs a sweaty palm on his sweats before he opens the door, finding Sid in his game day suit. His eyes widen when he takes Travis in, and something heated flares in his eyes for a moment that has goosebumps popping up along Travis’ arms. It’s gone just as quickly, and Travis watches as Sid clasps his hands behind his back, clearly trying to look as inoffensive and un-alpha-like as possible.

“Hey.” He finally greets, and Travis finds it in himself to lean against the doorframe, feigning nonchalance.

“Hey.” He shoots back. “What are you doing here?”

“I don’t like how we left things last time. I was hoping that we could talk?” He could push it, if he wanted to. He’s an alpha and Travis is an omega, after all. He could put some power behind the question and make it an order. But he doesn’t, and Travis knows Sid well enough by now to know that he wouldn’t. So, he nods and steps out of the doorway to allow him entry.

Sid steps into the apartment, and Travis knows there’s no way that he hadn’t smelled Patty, but Sid’s eyes lock onto the back of Patty’s head and he doesn’t look away as the muscles of his shoulders tighten.

“Uh, you know Patty.” Travis tells him awkwardly, and Patty finally gets up, walking around the couch. Travis has never seen Patty look so much like an alpha in the years that he’s known him, making himself even taller, taking up more space in the room. Sid’s whole body goes taught, and he doesn’t look away from Patty. His nostrils flare, and Travis remembers climbing into Patty’s lap, wrestling with him, and there’s no way Sid can’t smell that on them. Doesn’t smell Travis on Patty, and vice-versa.

“I’m going to go.” Patty finally tells Travis, ignoring Sid completely. “Are you going to be okay?”

“Yeah, bud, I’ll call you later.” Patty gives Sid a wide berth, but he reaches up a hand and pets the side of Travis’ face, and Travis has to roll his eyes and his friend’s alpha posturing. They may not be romantic, but he knows a part of Patty claims Travis as _his_ and his most basic instincts tell him to make that clear in the face of another alpha, especially one that has hurt an omega he considers pack. He swaggers out of the apartment, and Travis fights the urge to throw his shoe at his best friend.

The apartment is oppressively silent after the door closes behind Patty. Travis stares at the ground, waiting for Sid to say something.

“When you, uh, when you were in Pittsburgh and you didn’t have a heat partner.” Sid finally speaks, his voice rough and tinged with something that Travis can’t place. “It was because Patrick is out on IR, right? You, uh, smell like him.”

“Uh…” Travis scratches the back of his head. “Uh, yeah.”

“Right.” Sid’s scent turns sour, sad, and Travis can’t figure out why. “I should go.”

“Is that what you came here to say? Really?”

“No, but it…it doesn’t matter. I just wanted to say I’m sorry for how I handled things after my rut.”

“Yeah, well, it’s, y’know, fine or whatever.” Travis shrugs, trying his best to come off as cool and casual and fight down the hurt he still feels. “I’m over it.” He wants to say _I’m over you_ , but Travis knows just by looking at Sid that that’s a fucking lie.

“Yeah, I can see that.” Sid tells him. “I’m going to go.”

“Okay.” Travis watches as Sid nods and returns to the front door. He freezes with his hand on the doorknob but doesn’t turn back to face Travis.

“I really hope that you and Patrick are happy.” He tells the door, before flinging it open and stepping through, and it closes before Travis can formulate a response.

“What the _fuck_.” He says to the door.

He leaves for St. Louis a few days later, and he forces himself to push back everything Sid-related to the back of his mind. This is his first All-Star Game, and Sid and all that weirdness is not going to stop him from enjoying it. He’s heard some of the older vets complain about the weekend – about how they’d rather have the time to rest before the real push for the playoffs begins – but Travis is brimming with excitement. It’s not often that an omega makes it to the ASG, after all. There’s so few of them in the league to begin with, so he decides to take it all in. The media is exhausting, but the skills competition is the most fun that Travis has had in awhile. He doesn’t expect to win fastest skater, but he finds himself cheering for Barzal when he finally breaks McDavid’s winning streak.

They’re sitting on the ice during hardest shot, Travis watching Marner pass a puck back and forth with little Alex Letang, when he feels eyes on him. He looks behind him to the bench and sees the elder Letang staring at him, as if he was sizing him up.

“Can I help you?” He asks, and Letang shrugs.

“I was hoping that we could talk.” Letang tells him, throwing his body over the bench so he can join Travis on the ice. “About Sid.”

Travis freezes, stares down and picks at invisible thread on his sweater. Surely Sid hadn’t…?

“What about him?”

“He told me.” Letang confesses. “About the two of you.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure, you don’t.” Letang chuckles.

“There’s nothing going on between me and Crosby.”

“Yeah, that’s why he almost murdered me for that hit a few days ago. I’ve still got the bruise on my chest to prove it.”

“Look, dude, what do you want me to say?”

“I know he went to see you, after the game.” Letang leans into his space then. “I know he went to fix things with you, but he came back even more messed up than he was before.”

Travis looks up at that, finding worry etched on Letang’s face.

“You don’t have to tell me what happened, but I haven’t seen Sid like this since…well, in a long time. He’s a good guy.”

“I know he is.” Travis replies, returning to picking at his jersey.

“He’s not one of those instinctual, angry alphas. It’s not like him to lash out. He’s always in control, and I think he wanted to rip my head off for that hit on you. He cares, that’s all I’m saying.”

“It was just…it’s just a heat partner thing.” Letang looks at him, his gaze penetrating. He may be a beta, but Travis still feels like curling in on himself. He cares about Sid, that’s clear, but Travis doesn’t know what he’s trying to accomplish here.

“I think you’re wrong.” Letang tells him, pushing to stand up. “But that’s between the two of you.”

Travis watches him skate off toward his kid without another word.

The next night, he’s getting dressed for the game when his phone lights up in his stall. He reaches over, thumbs it open, and finds a text from Sid.

**SC**

_Good luck tonight. Enjoy it._

He stares at the text, his thumb hovering over the keyboard. Finally, he shakes his head and turns his screen off without replying.

Their first game back after the All-Star break is, of course, against the Pens because the universe hates Travis Konecny. Sid’s text remains on his phone, unanswered. Travis isn’t sure what’s going on, honestly. Sid rejects him, nearly attacks his own teammate in Travis’ honor, shows up at his place only to turn around and leave again, then texts him a fucking _good luck_ text like they’re friends. Travis had thought they _were_ friends, maybe even something more, and now he’s just…confused.

It’s an ugly game, full of penalties. They get the early lead thanks to Jake’s sweet PPG, but then in the second Malkin ties it up early on. Then, Myers draws a penalty and Rust scores. Then _Travis_ draws a stupid fucking tripping penalty and Letang of all people scores on the power play, assisted by Sid and Malkin, and Travis almost breaks his stick in the penalty box. Sid catches his eye as Travis returns to the ice, his face impassive, and Travis turns and skates back to his bench. Pitsy makes it 2-3, then, at the end of the period, Travis sees Sid skating toward him. They’re surrounded by teammates fighting for the puck and, before either of them can move or react, Sid’s stick ends up mixed with Travis’ feet and he falls to the ice. The ref blows the whistle, and Travis looks up to see Sid holding out a hand to help him up. Travis takes the hand, lets Sid pull him up.

“I’m sorry.” Sid stares him, and suddenly there’s something soft and sorrowful in his eyes that makes Travis’ gut clench and his throat tighten. “I’m sorry.” He says again, as the ref pulls him toward the sin bin to sit out his penalty.

Laughts ties it up in the third, and they go to OT, but Sid scores less than a minute in and that’s it – they’re done.

Travis stuffs his things in his bag, his hair dripping in his eyes from his shower. He’s so in his head that he doesn’t see or hear Hayesey coming until he drops a big hand on his shoulder.

“You gonna go see your special alpha while we’re in the Pitt?”

“Nah, just going to head back to the hotel.” For once, Travis is glad that the front office decided to let them stay in Pittsburgh overnight and fly back in the morning even though they’re playing the Avs at home tomorrow night.

“Why not?” Hayesey looks confused, like he usually does, and Travis shrugs.

“Didn’t work out.”

They’re walking out to the bus, and Travis can’t stop thinking about Sid on the ice, the apology for tripping him that Travis can’t help but think was an apology for something else. He freezes, Hayesey getting a few steps in front of him.

“Hey,” he calls out, and Hayesey turns. “I’ll see you later, eh?”

“Go get ‘em, Tikibar!” Hayesey calls, and Travis jogs out toward the home locker room.

The halls are pretty empty when he finds his way to the Pens’ room. He worries, briefly, that he’s missed Sid when Malkin steps out, eyeing him warily.

“Help you?” He asks, towering over Travis.

“Uh, I was looking for Sid?” Malkin doesn’t say anything, just watches him in a way that has Travis wanting to curl in on himself despite his best efforts. Malkin is an omega, like Travis, but he’s also infamously protective of his captain, and Travis can see Malkin sniffing the air, searching for a threat. His eyes narrow at Travis, but before he can say anything a hand lands on his shoulder, Sid appearing at Malkin’s side a moment later.

“It’s okay, Geno, I’ve got this.” Malkin looks over at Sid, whose eyes are locked on Travis. Travis watches as Malkin nods and heads down the hallway without looking back at Travis. Sid suddenly seems smaller in that moment, stuffing his hands in his pockets, and Travis realizes that Sid is doing it on purpose, trying to seem as unthreatening as possible.

“Hey.” He finally greets, his voice soft as he stares at Travis.

“Hey.” Travis replies, clearing his throat. “I was, uh, hoping we could talk?”

“Sure.” Sid nods with something like eagerness, and the tight knot in Travis’ chest loosens.

“Somewhere…private?”

“We could, um, go back to my place?” Travis isn’t sure that he wants to go back to the place that holds so many memories of his time with Sid, but he also knows they’re unlikely to be left alone anywhere else, and he doesn’t want an audience for this. He nods, and falls into step beside Sid, sure to keep at least a foot of space between them. They don’t speak as Sid leads them through the winding halls of the arena, and Travis stares out of the window at the lights of Pittsburgh as Sid drives them home. He doesn’t want to have this conversation in the car, and also the longer they put it off the longer Travis can have a small glimmer of hope that this conversation will go the way that he wants it to.

They’re standing in Sid’s kitchen before Travis can really process what he wants to say, and the familiarity of Sid’s home, his scent permeating everything and overwhelming Travis’ senses. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed the ice-cedar-chocolate smell that was uniquely Sid’s.

“Do you want something to drink?” Sid asks, and Travis shakes his head.

“Before, at my apartment, you, uh, said that you wanted to apologize…for what happened.” Might as well get this conversation over with, Travis thinks.

“I did. I do.” Sid sets his bottle of water down. “I wish that I had handled that conversation better. I was surprised, I guess, that that was…something you wanted.”

“You were surprised that I wanted to date you?”

“Well, yeah.” Sid shrugs. “I mean, look at us. We’re on rival teams, live in different cities, not to mention that I’m almost a decade older than you.”

“I didn’t really think about any of that, honestly.” Travis admits. “I just really liked you.”

“I really like you, too.” Sid replies, his scent turning strange. “But…”

“But you don’t do relationships.” Travis finishes, and Sid shrugs. He looks like he wants to say something else but stops himself. “Right. Well, apology accepted and all that.”

“I’m happy,” Sid seems to blurt out. “For you and, uh, Patrick.” Travis stares at him, remembering Sid telling him the same thing the night he came to his apartment.

“Do you…do you think I’m dating _Patty_?”

“Well…” Sid looks confused. “Yeah?”

“Oh, my god.” Travis runs his hands over his face, casting his eyes to the ceiling. “Patty is a heat partner and my best friend, but we’re not _dating_ , for fuck’s sake.”

“You’re not?” Sid’s scent is sharp, crisp, the smell of fresh ice overwhelming the cedar and chocolate.

“No, God, like I would start dating someone while I’m still trying to get over you.” Travis blurts out, regretting it immediately. Sid freezes where he stands a few feet away from him. His face is an unreadable mask, and it makes Travis want to grab him by the shoulders and shake him until he never has to see that look again. Finally, he takes a step closer to Travis, his scent giving over to the earthiness of cedar.

“Are you, uh…still trying? To get over me?” Travis huffs out a sharp breath, shaking his head.

“Sid, I can’t do this.” He takes a step back, putting the space back between them that Sid had closed. “Fucking around with you is fun but now I have, like, feelings and shit.”

“Feelings and shit?” Sid asks, and Travis wants to laugh or cry or both he’s so embarrassed.

“Yeah, feelings and shit. Like, hand holding, cheesy dates, no fucking anyone else kind of feelings.”

“I’m not good at the dating stuff.” Sid tells him, and it feels like a warning instead of a rejection when he slips his hand into Travis’.

“Yeah, well, I’ve never done it either, the whole boyfriends thing.”

“I don’t…I’m not interested in bonding.” Sid confesses, and that does give Travis pause. He’d only ever thought about bonding in vaguest terms. It was something that he knew that he’d probably want at some point in the future, but bonding was like a marriage – which, for an omega like Travis, meant settling down, children, the works.

“I want to date you, Sid, I’m not asking you to get dynamic-married tomorrow.”

“But I don’t want to get bonded…ever.”

“Oh.” Travis steps closer to Sid, runs his fingers over his cheekbone and over his ear. Sid leans into the touch, and Travis can’t help but smile at the reaction. “That’s cool.”

“Really?” Sid opens his eyes, his cheek pressing into Travis’ palm. “You’re okay with that?”

“It’s fine.” Travis has to lean in and kiss Sid quickly, gently. “I just want you.” And it’s cheesy, Travis knows it, but Sid smiles at him, so he can’t bring himself to regret it. He moves in again, tucking himself against Sid. Sid’s arms wrap around him, warm and familiar, but with the added sense of something _more_. It makes Travis want to sink into it, revel in it, but a yawn escapes his mouth before he can do anything about it. 

“Let’s go to bed.” Sid suggests, dropping a kiss against Travis’ hair. Travis nods and lets himself be tugged up the stairs. 

When Travis wakes the next morning, Sid’s arms are wrapped around him. He can feel Sid breathing heavily against the back of his neck, and when he tries to wiggle out of Sid’s hold he tightens and his hand slips up to cover Travis’ heart.

“Go back to sleep.” Sid grumbles.

“I have a flight to catch.” Travis reminds him. “Make me breakfast.”

“Bossy.” There’s no heat in Sid’s voice, and he nips Travis’ shoulder gently before rolling out of the bed.

“You like it.” Travis climbs out of the bed himself, stretching, knowing Sid’s eyes are on him. “I’m taking a shower.”

He doesn’t have clean clothes, so he finds a pair of sweats and t-shirt that smell like Sid and slips them on, the scent of sausage calling him to the kitchen. He hesitates when he sees Sid, the urge to touch strong, but then he reminds himself that they’re _boyfriends_ now, and he can touch if he wants to. He wraps an arm around Sid’s waist and hooks his chin over Sid’s shoulder.

“Looks good.” He praises Sid’s omelet. Sid hums and leans back into Travis, letting him hold Sid. It’s very un-alphalike behavior, and Travis revels in it.

Ever since he had presented as an omega at fifteen, traditional alpha-omega dynamics had been beaten into Travis’ skull. Alphas are dominant, strong; Omegas are submissive, weak. An alpha should always lead the relationship, an omega should always defer to their alpha; there should be a clear definition in the relationship. It’s why Travis had always shied away from relationships, preferring no-strings-attached partners that he could use to get through heats and then move on with his life. He was young, rich, a professional athlete. He had proven that he was fast enough, strong enough, to play at an elite level despite his dynamic, and he hadn’t wanted to give that up. But, the more he got to know Sid he suspected that what he had been taught about alpha-omega relationships was wrong. At least, in their case. Sid was strong, an alpha in the best sense, but he wasn’t a brute, didn’t throw his strength or dynamic around like a weapon. He was quietly in control, powerful in an unassuming way that made Travis comfortable with the idea of letting Sid lead him, made Travis confident that Sid didn’t want him to be an omega that deferred to him in all things, that valued his opinion and his own independence. Let Travis hold him and didn’t act like Travis was demeaning him – in fact, if the way Sid sighed as Travis tightened his grip on Sid’s waist, he _liked_ it.

“Get a couple of plates?” Sid suggests, and Travis grips Sid’s hip once before slipping away.

“I can give you a ride back to the hotel,” Sid tells him once they sit down to eat.

“Aren’t you afraid someone will see us together?”

“Is your entire team going to be waiting outside the hotel?” Sid’s got a small smile on his face that makes Travis want to climb over the table and kiss off of his face.

“Clearly you don’t know my team.” Travis shoots back. “I just…we have to keep this a secret, right?”

“I think…” Sid sets his fork down, leaning back in his chair. “We can always just say that we’re friends, if anyone finds out.”

“A Pen and a Flyer, friends? Groundbreaking.”

“Crazier things have happened.”

“Yeah, like a Pen and a Flyer being boyfriends.” Travis grins, and it only grows wider when Sid looks down to his plate, a blush spreading across his cheeks. Travis has to get up at that, making Sid push his chair away from the table so he can climb into his lap. Sid’s big hands settle on his hips, and Travis leans down for a kiss that quickly turns filthy, that has Travis grinding down into Sid.

“You have a flight.” Sid pulls away to remind him, and Travis ignores him in favor of licking down Sid’s neck.


	2. Sidney

Travis makes his flight, barely, and if Sid’s teammates tease him for the hickey Travis left on his neck, well, he left a matching one on Travis so fair is fair. They text like they used to, but they also video chat now, which is new. It settles something in Sid’s chest when Travis’ face fills his screen every few days.

Travis is on a quick roadie and Sid is on a four-game homestand. Sid had encouraged Travis to go out with his team - after all Florida in February is a welcome break from Philly in February - but that doesn’t stop Sid from smiling when his phone rings and he gets a shot of Travis in his empty hotel room, his hair damp and tousled like he had just gotten out of the shower.

“Hey.” He greets, and Sid’s pretty sure the soft smile Travis gives him is reflected on his own face.

“Hey.” Travis echoes. “Good game.”

“Thanks.” Sid shrugs, and Travis rolls his eyes.

“You got three points babe.” Travis points out, and Sid feels something pleasant at the endearment. Sid’s never been one for pet names, but Travis clearly is, and while he won’t reciprocate Sid can’t say that he dislikes it.

“I thought you were going out with the team?” Travis shrugs and flops down on the bed, holding his phone in the air so Sid can look down at him.

“I wasn’t really feeling it. The guys just want to pick up and it’s, y’know, Valentine’s Day or whatever.”

Sid instinctually wants to apologize for being apart on Valentine’s Day, but he knew that if anyone was going to understand it would be Travis.

“Should I have sent you flowers or something?” Sid asks, and chuckles when Travis scrunches up his nose.

“What the fuck am I going to do with flowers? Flowers are dumb.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Sid watches as Travis twists on the bed, drops the phone down so he can see Travis press his face into the pillow.

“Hey, I was thinking, though. I’ve got a couple days off after the Lightning game tomorrow. I thought maybe I’d fly to Pittsburgh from here.” Sid suspects that Travis thinks that he’s coming off nonchalant, but he can see the insecurity in his eyes.

“We’re playing the Red Wings the next day, but I’d love to see you.”

“Really?” A slow smile creeps up on Travis’ face, and Sid nods.

“Yeah, book the ticket.”

Sid offers to pick Travis up from the airport, but Travis assures him that it’s easier to take an uber. It’s the middle of the night when Sid hears the security alarm go off downstairs. It stops beeping a moment later, so Sid doesn’t move from the warmth of the bed. He senses Travis getting closer before he hears him enter the room, the omega trying to be as quiet as possible as he drops his bag near the door. He hears him strip out of his clothes, and Sid waits until Travis slips into the bed before he flips over and wraps an arm around him, pulling him until he can press his body against Travis’. He smells like recycled airplane air, but Sid can smell the unmistakable ozone-spice scent that is Travis underneath it all. He noses into Travis’ hair and lets out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

“Go back to sleep babe.” Travis tells him softly, and Sid drifts off to the sound of Travis’ breathing.

Sid offers Travis a ticket to the game the next night, but Travis points out that there’s no way he could be at a Pens game and not get recognized. Instead, Sid gets two points, they destroy the Red Wings, and Sid comes home to a house that smells more like Travis than it did when he left. It’s pretty clear that Travis had scented most of the public areas of the house, rearranged and cleaned until there was no mistaking that Sid has an omega in the house. It’s comforting, settles something in Sid. His house hasn’t smelled so strongly of someone else in years, and he follows the ozone-spice scent to the kitchen. Travis is plating what looks like sandwiches, and he looks up when Sid steps into his space, letting him drop a kiss on his temple.

“Thanks, I’m starving.” Sid tells him, and Travis shrugs.

“I can’t really cook, but I can do sandwiches.” He lets Sid pick up both plates and guide them to the living room. He presses his leg against Travis’ while they watch highlights on the NHL Network. When it rolls around to the Pens game, Travis nudges his elbow into Sid’s side.

“That was a sweet fucking goal,” Travis tells him around a mouthful of sandwich.

“Gross, chew with your mouth closed.” Sid chirps, feigning disgust when Travis just opens his mouth wider. “Ugh, I’m never kissing you again.”

He knows before the words leave his mouth that Travis will take that as a challenge, but he counts it as a win when Travis manages to wait until they’ve finished eating to crawl into his lap. He runs his hands along Sid’s side, up his chest and neck, touching everything he can.

“You scented my whole house, now you need to scent me?” Sid asks, and Travis shrugs.

“You like it.”

“I do.” Sid admits, letting his hands rest on Travis’ hips. “I like that it’ll smell like you when you leave.”

“Mmm.” Is all Travis says in response, pressing his nose into the hollow of Sid’s throat. It makes Sid want to lean back, bare his throat in the most un-alpha-like way. Instead, he grips Travis’ waist and pulls until he can get Travis spread out on the couch, hovering over him. He gets a hand in Travis’ hair and tugs until he bares his own throat.

“God, you smell so good.” Sid presses his face into Travis’ neck. “Like fresh air and cinnamon.” Sid bites his tongue just a moment too late. It’s not considered polite to tell people what they smell like, unless you’re bonded, but when he pulls away Travis is smiling.

“That’s what I smell like to you?” he asks, and Sid nods. “You smell like trees and a fresh sheet of ice.” Sid grins at that and leans in so he can kiss Travis. “And chocolate, that probably explains the sweet tooth.” Travis adds against his lips, and Sid digs his fingers into Travis’ side in retaliation.

Sid loses himself in Travis after that, but at some point, they make it to Sid’s bedroom. Later, in the afterglow, Sid watches as Travis dozes against his chest. He looks younger, and it really hits him in that moment just how much younger Travis is than him. He remembers when he was twenty-two, winning his first Cup, Geno by his side, feeling like he was invincible. Like he could have anything he wanted if he worked hard enough – that _he and Geno_ could survive anything.

“Hey.” He pokes Travis’ shoulder where his arm is wrapped around it. “Can I talk to you about something?”

“Seriously? I’m pretty sex stupid at the moment.” Travis mumbles. “Your fault.”

“This is important.” That seems to get Travis’ attention, and he pulls off of Sid’s chest enough that he can look at him. “It’s about why I don’t want to bond.”

“Okay.” Travis replies after a long moment, though he doesn’t move out of Sid’s arms.

“I was bonded, before. For a long time.”

“Really? But…I don’t ever remember hearing about a partner.”

“Yeah, we never said anything publicly.” Sid admits, taking a fortifying breath. “It was Geno. We were bonded for seven years.”

“Wow.” Travis stares off for a long moment. “That makes sense, actually.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I mean the whole ‘two headed monster’ thing. You guys have always been weirdly in sync.”

“Yeah, I guess we have been.”

“But…you _were_ bonded. Obviously not anymore. What…” Travis trails off.

“What happened?” Sid finishes, and Travis nods. “Uh, about four years ago, Geno told me that he was ready to start a family. We were about to start the season and he wanted to start trying, even if it meant missing the end of the season or the playoffs and…I didn’t want that.”

“You don’t want kids?”

“Not then, not…I thought there was plenty of time, after hockey. But Geno didn’t want to wait.”

“So, you broke the bond.”

“Yeah.” Sid can hear the roughness in his voice, the memory of losing his bond to Geno still fresh all these years later. “It almost cost us the season, trying to adjust to life without the bond.”

Sid can see Travis doing some mental math. “But you won the Cup that year.”

“Yeah. I think a lot of it had to do with Geno meeting Anna. It settled something between us, once Geno had another alpha. Then she got pregnant and they had a son and…it helped, knowing that Geno was happy.”

“What about you?” Sid leans into the hand that Travis runs through his hair.

“What about me?”

“It matters that you’re happy, too. Not just Geno.”

“I am happy,” Sid tells him, and he’s a little unnerved to realize that it’s the truth.

“Do you regret it? Not giving Geno the child he wanted?” Sid looks for jealousy in Travis’ voice, in his face, but finds only genuine curiosity.

“No.” Sid admits. “No, everything with us worked out exactly like it was supposed to.”

“I want kids, someday.” Travis sounds nervous, unsure, and Sid slides further down on the bed so he can look at him. “Not, like, any time soon obviously, but…someday.”

“Yeah?” Sid runs his hand along Travis’ side, and for a fleeting moment imagines him full with his babies and suddenly that is a _lot_ for him to process and he has to force himself to focus on Travis’ face.

“Yeah, of course. But, like, I’ve got time. And lots of hockey to play.” Travis’ smile turns to a sly grin. “Cups to win.”

“Flyers and Cups, gross.” Sid jokes before wrapping Travis in his arms.

Travis goes home two days later, and Sid tries not to think too much about how his home and bed smell like him and how empty it feels without him there. Sid doesn’t tell Travis, but he tries to find enough time in his schedule to make a trip to Philly, but they’re in the homestretch of the season, and the virus is becoming more and more of an issue, and he just can’t make it work. He thinks it probably says something that he even _considers_ a distraction like that during the season, but he chooses not to look at it too closely.

February is rough. They lose six in a row, including a shutout against San Jose. Meanwhile, Sid watches as Travis and his team win nine in a row. Travis racks up thirteen points, and Sid feels something like pride swell in his chest. They may not be bonded, and they may play for rival teams, but Sid can’t help but feel like Travis is _his_ and that’s _his_ omega lighting it up. February turns into March, and suddenly the reports about the virus get that much more serious and Sid thinks there’s no way it’s not going to affect their season. He’s in Columbus and Travis is in Tampa when the word comes down that the season is paused. He’s not surprised when he gets a Skype call from Travis a few hours later.

“Hey.” He greets when Travis’ face fills his screen.

“Hey.” Travis is subdued, quiet in a way that has Sid leaning closer to his phone.

“Are you okay?”

“Just frustrated.” Travis admits, and Sid _gets it_. “We had so much momentum and now…”

“Yeah. What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know. They’re flying us back to Philly tonight, but no one really knows how long this is going to go on.”

“I don’t think they would pause the season if it was going to be resolved quickly.” Sid admits, and that hurts. Something in his bones tells him that hockey is done for the season.

“Are you going to stay in Pittsburgh?” Sid has been thinking about that since he got the call.

“I think…I think I want to go home before it gets so bad that I can’t.”

“Back to Cole Harbour?”

“Yeah.”

“I guess I could go to Port Stanley.”

“Or you could come with me.” The words leave Sid before he can stop them, but he doesn’t regret them. Travis raises an eyebrow, but there’s a soft, pleased smile on his face.

“You want me there?”

“I always want you around.” Sid admits, and if Sid thought Travis’ smile was pleased before, it’s nothing compared to the way it grows at that, his cheeks pinking up before he smashes his face in the pillow.

“Okay.” Travis voice is muffled by the pillow, but he pulls his head up and gives Sid a blinding grin. “I’ll send you my flight info.”

Sid flies out two days later, once he’s made sure that everyone on the team is good and there’s a game plan with the front office. Travis books his flight for the day after, after he points out that it will be way too obvious if they fly in together. When Sid goes to pick him up in Halifax, he stays in the car with his sunglasses on and his hat low on his head despite the urge in the pit of his stomach to step out and throw his arms around Travis the second he sees him step out from baggage claim. He’s got his own hat and sunglasses on, his long hair tucked underneath, and Sid feels his breath catch in his chest. He hasn’t seen him in person in almost a month and he…he _missed_ him. He waits until Travis has thrown his bags in the backseat and climbed in the passenger seat before grabbing the front of his hoodie and pulling him across the armrest for a kiss. He means it to be quick, chaste, but then Travis groans and slips him some tongue and Sid only pulls away when he hears the whistle of the cop monitoring the area and gesturing for them to leave.

It’s only about a half hour drive from Halifax to his home in Cole Harbour, and it’s a quiet enough drive with most people at home due to the pandemic that he lets his hand rest in Travis’ on the armrest while he rambles about Hayesey and Patty and his family.

“They know where you were going?” Sid asks as they near Cole Harbour, and Travis shrugs.

“Patso does, since he knows about us. Hayesey just knows I’m not in Philly. I told my family I was going to stay with someone but not who. Is that…okay?” Travis’ tone is soft, so unsure, and Sid squeezes his hand.

“Of course.”

“It’s just…I know we said we have to keep it a secret, but I just figured since Patty saw us together-“

“ _Travis_ .” Sid interrupts, a little bit of alpha leaking into his voice, and Travis freezes. “It’s okay. Yeah, we need to be quiet, but that doesn’t mean that _no one_ can know. You know…Teeks, you know I’m not, like, ashamed of you or anything, right?”

Travis is quiet for longer than Sid likes, but he lets him be, he won’t push him on this. He squeezes Travis’ hand, eyes on the road. He feels a dull ache in his chest at the thought that he’s hit a truth in their relationship that he didn’t know was there. Has Travis thought that he was ashamed of him this whole time?

They pull into the driveway of Sid’s house, and he doesn’t want to, but he finally has to let go of Travis’ hand. He jogs around the car quickly enough that he can grab Travis’ bags before the man can get at them.

“I can-“ Travis starts, and Sid shakes his head.

“I’ve got it.” He leads Travis to the front door, unlocks it, then steps aside so Travis can step inside. It’s a lot in that moment, letting Travis into his home. He’s been in his house in Philly, but this is his _home_. Sid’s an alpha, letting an omega into his most private space, but he shouldn’t be surprised when something settles at the sight of Travis stepping into the living room, running his hand along the back of the couch, unconsciously scenting the space as he looks around.

“Do you like it?” He asks, and Travis nods.

“It’s nice. It reminds me of my place in Port Stanley.” Sid squashes the urge to puff out his chest at the confirmation that his om – that _Travis_ likes his home.

“I’m going to put your stuff in the bedroom.” He tells him. “I’ll be right back.”

Travis is staring through the backdoor at the bay when Sid comes back downstairs. Sid steps up behind him, not touching him but close enough that Travis knows that he’s there.

“I know you’re not ashamed of me.” Travis tells him softly. “It’s just…I’m still an omega, no matter how much I try to ignore it. Sometimes it just feels…sometimes it’s hard to be with…it’s just hard, sometimes.”

“What can I do?” Travis leans into Sid’s chest, and Sid’s arms wrap around him instinctively, his palm resting above Travis’ heart.

“This is good.” Travis murmurs, resting his head on Sid’s shoulder. “I’ve missed this.”

“I’ve missed you.” Sid replies, running his nose along Travis’ neck, breathing him in. “You smell amazing.”

Sid feels Travis begin to grind slowly against him, his scent growing stronger and sharper. They’ve had skype sex, phone sex, but nothing compares to the feeling of Travis against him, to the sensation of Travis shuddering against him when he nips gently at the place where Travis’ neck meets his shoulder.

“Please.” Travis whispers.

“Please, what?” Sid replies, dragging his teeth back up to get Travis’ ear between his teeth. Travis groans, pressing further into Sid.

“You know what.”

“Want to hear you say it.” Sid grins and Travis’ frustrated noises before the omega hangs his head.

“ _Please_ fuck me, Jesus fucking Christ.” He finally gets out, turning in Sid’s arms. “That good enough?”

Sid had had plans to show Travis the bay, maybe take the boat out, but all those go out the window in favor of spending the afternoon in bed with his boyfriend. Travis is particularly insatiable, and that combined with his intense scent has Sid deep in thought as he runs his fingers through Travis’ hair in the afterglow.

“When is your next heat due?”

“Hmm?” Travis replies eloquently, always dazed and sleepy after sex in a way that has Sid’s inner alpha preening because _he did that_. “Don’t know, soon I think.”

“You are the worst at tracking your cycles.” Sid chides him, fondness seeping into his voice.

“Mmm.” Travis rubs his face on Sid’s chest, as if he hadn’t already thoroughly scented him, then promptly falls asleep on top of Sid.

Sid wakes up before Travis, so he leaves him to sleep and heads downstairs to put something together for dinner. He finds some chicken and vegetables, starts a pot of rice, and gets to work. Travis comes downstairs as Sid is pulling the chicken out of the oven, wrapping his arms around Sid’s waist after he sets the pan down.

“Smells awesome, babe.” Travis nuzzles his face into Sid’s neck, scenting him, and Sid indulges him until the rice cooker goes off. He plates food for both of them before leading Travis to the small table just outside the kitchen and makes it a point to set Travis’ plate next to his rather than across from him. It gets a small, private smile out of Travis, so once they’re seated Sid presses himself along Travis’ side while they eat.

“You’re right.” Travis tells him about halfway through the meal. “My tracking app says I should be starting my heat soon.”

“Well, good thing we’ve got nothing but time.” The heated look that Travis gives him at that makes Sid want to throw him over his shoulder, drag him to his bed, and never let him leave.

Travis’ heat starts almost two weeks later, and Sid’s woken up at two in the morning by his boyfriend climbing on top of him and grinding down, his breath in hot pants against Sid’s neck.

“Need you.” Travis groans and Sid wraps his arms around Travis and rolls them until he’s on top, settled into the space between Travis’ legs as he bucks up.

“I’ve got you.” Sid leans in and drops sharp, biting kisses along Travis’ neck, his collarbone, and down his chest. “I’ll take care of you, baby.”

Travis keens at that and squeezes his thighs around Sid’s shoulders as Sid moves down his body.

Travis is sated enough a few rounds later that Sid can get away long enough to gather up supplies from the kitchen so he can stash them away in the bedroom. Travis is awake by the time he returns, writhing against the mattress, and he whimpers when he sees Sid, something quiet and desperate that has Sid dropping the food and drinks in a heap to climb into the bed.

“You left.” Travis whines, plastering himself to Sid’s side. Sid digs his fingers in Travis’ hair, tugging so Travis will look up at him.

“Just to get some food for you. I came right back.” This Travis is different from the one that rode out his heat with Sid all those months ago. This Travis clings to him, always touching Sid in some way. He doesn’t say much, which is so unlike Travis that Sid is almost unnerved.

By the second day Travis’ heat is peaking, and Sid is exhausted, but he also feels pride at the fact that he’s giving his om – his _Travis_ – what he wants, what he needs. The last time they’d done this he had had a sympathy rut, and he’s especially grateful for the fact that it doesn’t seem to be happening this time when Travis is a sweating, sobbing mess underneath him, wrung tight, his body overwhelmed, nothing but feeling and sensation and need.

“Please.” He begs, clinging to Sid’s shoulders as he moves inside of him.

“What do you need?” Travis whines, bucking up into Sid. “Come on love, you have to tell me.” Sid pushes, and Travis shakes his head until Sid moves to frame his face with his hands to make him look at Sid. “Tell me.”

“I can’t.” Travis sobs, shaking his head, and Sid feels something crack in his chest because he’s supposed to be _helping_ Travis, _pleasing_ him, and he’s obviously in pain.

“ _Travis_.” He orders, and the omega stills under him at the sound of his alpha voice. “Please, tell me what you need.” Travis shudders, but Sid can see it in his face when he finally gives up the fight, his breath leaving him when Travis bares his neck to him.

“Bite me.” Travis’ voice is rough, wrecked, and Sid doesn’t feel much better. “I want you to bite me.”

“I-“ Sid starts, then stops. Opens his mouth to try again, only to shut it. His body is screaming at him to do it. Take, bite, _claim_ . His inner alpha is on fire with the thought of getting his teeth on Travis’ skin, mark him so everyone knows that he’s _Sid’s_ . He _wants_ to bond with Travis, and the shock of that realization is enough to snap him out of it, pull him back to reality, a place where he knows why he can’t just bite and claim and bond with Travis – with _anyone_.

“ _Please_.” Travis begs, his eyes brimming with tears as he continues to writhe on Sid’s dick, and Sid can only shake his head slightly.

“I can’t, I’m so sorry.” He tells Travis, pulling him into his arms. They don’t say anything else, or after when they’re locked together by Sid’s knot.

“Trav-“ Sid starts, and Travis shakes his head where he has it buried against Sid’s collarbone.

“Don’t.” Travis warns, and Sid remains silent.

Travis’ heat breaks later in the evening the next night, and Sid manages to get him in the shower so he can strip the bed and put clean sheets down. After he’s dropped the filthy sheets in the laundry room he returns to the bathroom to find Travis standing unmoving under the water, and he doesn’t hesitate to strip down and join him, letting Travis put his weight on him. He wraps him up in his own pajamas after, and Travis scrunches his nose up in distaste at the Pens logo on the pants but doesn’t say anything. Sid plies him into the kitchen with the promise of breakfast for dinner, and he doesn’t argue when Travis asks for pancakes.

“I’m supposed to have dinner with my parents and Taylor tomorrow.” Sid tells him as he stands at the stove.

“Oh, okay.” Travis’ voice is scratchy, tired, and it makes Sid want to wrap him up in his arms again. “I can find something to keep myself busy.”

“Wait – well, do you not want to come with me?”

“I, uh…” Travis shrugs. “I didn’t know if I was invited. I didn’t know if you wanted me to, y’know, meet your family.”

“Of course, I do. I wouldn’t have invited you up here if I didn’t.”

“Oh.” Travis’ cheeks pink up then, and Sid feels his chest puff up at the small, pleased smile on his face. “Okay, cool.”

“Cool.” Sid echoes, flipping the pancake in front of him.

They spend the next day working out and watching television, and Travis never brings up the fact that he asked Sid to claim him, so Sid doesn’t either. He knows that it’s probably cowardly, but he’s afraid if he mentions it, if he reminds Travis that Sid _rejected_ him, he’ll leave and Sid…Sid doesn’t want that. For as little time as they’ve actually spent together, Travis fits into Sid’s life, into Sid’s home, like he’s always been there. Sid doesn’t want to lose that.

They head over to his parent’s house, the plate of cookies that Travis insisted on making resting in the floor of the passenger seat.

“You know my mom is going to have dessert, right? You didn’t have to make anything.”

“Of course, I did.” Travis scoffs, looking at Sid like he’s grown a second head. “I’m meeting my boyfriend’s parents; I can’t show up empty-handed. My mom raised me better than that.”

“Such a good boy.” Sid teases, but Travis blushes and looks away and _that_ is something that Sid wants to explore at a later time. Instead, he settles for reaching over and resting a hand on Travis’ thigh as they near the Crosby house.

“Mom, Dad, this is Travis. Trav, these are my parents.”

“Mr. Crosby.” Travis sticks out his hand for his dad to shake. “Mrs. Crosby.”

“Please, call us Trina and Troy.” His mom insists, ushering them further in the house. Taylor’s tapping away on her phone on the couch, but she waves as Sid and Travis walk in.

“And this is my sister, Taylor.”

“Nice to meet you.” Travis greets, and Taylor’s grin grows. She grabs Travis’ arm and pulls him down to sit next to her.

“Nice to meet _you_.” She enthuses, and Sid rolls his eyes.

“Tay, be nice.”

“I’m _always_ nice, but you never bring people to meet us, sue me if I’m excited.”

“It’s okay.” Travis tells him, and he doesn’t look uncomfortable so Sid excuses himself to grab them both a drink from the fridge.

“I can’t believe as a Flyer you haven’t, like, spontaneously combusted from dating my brother.” He hears Taylor as he re-enters the room, hands Travis his beer, and takes a seat next to him.

“I think our rivalry makes things interesting.” Travis replies, and reaches over without looking and entwines his fingers with Sid’s.

Something settles in him as he watches Taylor and Travis. Eventually his dad pulls him into a conversation about the pandemic and what will happen to the season, but Travis never pulls his hand away and Sid settles both of their hands on his thigh and lets himself enjoy simply being surrounded by some of his favorite people. His mom calls them to dinner and Travis finally disentangles their fingers, but he stays close enough that Sid can guide him to the dining room with a hand on his back. Travis keeps up a steady stream of conversation with all of the Crosbys, and by the time his mom passes out pieces of Sid’s favorite cheesecake along with Travis’ cookies, Sid’s pretty sure that his parents are ready to adopt Travis as one of their own, and he didn’t miss Travis and Taylor exchanging phone numbers – a truly terrifying thought, the two of them teaming up against him.

After dinner, Sid takes Travis down to the basement, showing him the beat-up dryer where he had practiced shots for hours on end growing up. There are a few old sticks leaning against the wall, and Travis only has to raise an eyebrow for Sid to flick the scorecards back to zero and hand him a stick.

“You’re going down, Crosby.” Travis warns, nudging Sid’s side.

“You wish, Fly boy.”

“Oh, my god, you’re such a nerd.” Travis gets set up for his first shot, and Sid snorts when it bounces off the side of the dryer. Sid sinks the first one, but Travis misses again and it’s 1-0 and Sid chuckles as he watches Travis grow increasingly frustrated.

“Keep it up, Chuckles.” Travis warns, stepping aside so Sid can set up his shot. “See if you get laid again any time soon.”

Sid looks over at Travis, staring him down while flicking the puck into the dryer. Travis’ mouth gapes open, and Sid presses him up against the wall, pushing into Travis’ space until they’re chest-to-chest.

“I think I still have a fairly good chance of getting laid.” He tells Travis, letting a hint of alpha melt into his voice, and Travis sags against him. “You think my hockey’s sexy.”

“Not fair.” He murmurs. “You’re going to give me a boner in your parents’ house.”

“Nobody ever said we were playing fair.” Sid noses up Travis’ neck, kissing the soft spot behind his ear.

“Squid!” Taylor’s voice calls from the top of the stairs. “Stop making out with your boyfriend, Mom says it’s your turn to help with the dishes.”

“Yeah, stop making out with your boyfriend.” Travis chirps, dropping kisses along Sid’s jaw that have him digging his hands into Travis’ side, seriously considering ignoring his sister in favor of fucking his boyfriend against the dryer.

Sid’s a good son, however, so he abandons Travis to Taylor’s clutches and joins his mom where she’s rinsing off the dishes. Sid takes his spot next to her and grabs the towel waiting for him. They clean in silence for longer than Sid gave his mom credit for. Dishwashing was always a task given to the Crosby child that she wanted to talk to about something important, and they make it through the plates and half of the glasses before she finally gets to the point.

“Travis seems like a nice boy.” She tells him, handing him a clean wine glass.

“He is nice.” Sid agrees before chuckling. “I mean, he’s a total pest, but yeah he’s great.”

“It’s been so long since you brought anyone home.”

“Hmm.” Sid replies, noncommittal. He hadn’t brought anyone home since Geno, hadn’t brought anyone home _before_ Geno.

“He’s very young.” Sid tenses at that, because he knows, okay? He knows that Travis is much younger than him, and it’s something he’s worried about from almost the moment that they agreed that they were dating. Sid is thirty-two, he’s only got a limited number of years of hockey left. Travis is twenty-three, about to hit the prime of his career.

“I know.” Sid doesn’t look at his mom, but he can feel her eyes on him. She may be an omega, but Sid has been intimidated by her most of his life and apparently, he’s not getting over it any time soon.

“Do you plan to bond with him?” It’s an intensely personal question, but Sid understands her curiosity. She had seen him in the aftermath of Geno, after they had won the Cup and he had come home and truly had the time and space to deal with the loss of his partner. It hadn’t been pretty, and his mom had been one of the only people he’d let see just how deeply losing Geno had affected him.

“No.” Sid shakes his head. “We’re not going to bond. It’s not that serious.”

“Serious enough that you brought him home with you.”

“Yeah, because we’re in a pandemic. It’s safe here.”

“You want to keep your omega safe?” She asks gently, and Sid scoffs.

“It’s not – he’s not _my_ omega, Mom. We’re just dating.” That same ache in his chest returns as he thinks about Travis being _his_ , his mind flashes back to a heat-addled Travis underneath him, begging him for his bite, and he has to physically shake his head to focus back on his mom.

“Okay.” She backs off, handing him the last of the glasses. “Just…I like him.”

“Me too.”

Travis is quiet on the drive home, and Sid would chalk it up to the late hour or Travis still recovering from his heat, but the silence is heavy, tense, and he doesn’t question it when Travis tells him he’s going to bed as soon as they walk in the house. Sid stays up for a while, trying to read, then turns on the TV, then he ends up tidying the living room because he can’t sit still. There’s an itch under his skin, nagging at him, telling him to figure out what he’s done wrong – because obviously he has done _something_. Travis is upset, and there’s no one for him to be upset at but Sid. He eventually gives up, trudges upstairs, and slips into his side of the bed.

He wants to reach out to Travis, hold him close like he does every night, but something tells him that his touch wouldn’t be welcome. He rests a hand on Travis’ spine, light, barely there, before he sighs and turns his back to Travis. Sid is just drifting off when he feels Travis thrash around on his side, turning over and pressing himself along Sid’s back. He tosses an arm over Sid’s waist, and Sid doesn’t hesitate to tug it up his chest, covering Travis’ hand with his own over his heart.

Travis isn’t in the bed when he wakes up, and Sid listens for the shower but finds only silence. He slips on a pair of sweatpants and pads downstairs, the smell of freshly brewed coffee calling him. He spots Travis on the deck overlooking the bay, his back to the house. He debates going to him, whether he would be welcome, but then he remembers the way a sleeping Travis had reached out for him, held him, and takes two cups of coffee out onto the deck.

“Good morning.” He greets, extending the arm holding Travis’ overly sweetened coffee.

“Thank you.” Travis replies, taking the cup before returning his gaze to the bay. Sid slips into the seat next to him, lets the silence linger in the air.

“I heard you last night.” Travis tells him, staring at the mug in his hands. “Talking to your mom.”

Sid freezes, refuses to look over at Travis.

“I guess I didn’t realize until right then how much it hurt to know – I mean, I _knew_ , we’ve talked about it. But, hearing you say it to someone else…”

“Teeks-“

“No, I need to get this out.” Sid watches as Travis sets his coffee on the table between their chairs, pushing up so he can stand and pace in front of Sid. He looks exhausted, wrung out, and Sid feels something ugly in the pit of his stomach because he knows that _he_ did that, he’s the one causing Travis pain.

“I know you don’t want to talk about it, but when I was in heat and I asked you to claim me…Yeah I was, like, heat stupid or whatever, but I still wanted it. I’ve wanted it for a while. I thought that I was okay with just dating, I really did. I wasn’t trying to, like, uh, lie to you or mislead you or anything. I didn’t think I wanted to bond, but…Sid, I _love_ you.”

Sid suddenly can’t look at Travis. He feels him staring down at Sid, and Sid’s an alpha and Travis is an omega, but Sid’s never felt smaller, more intimidated in his entire life. Travis is here, putting all his cards on the table, and Sid can’t even _look_ at him.

“I’m, like, fully in love with you. And I know that’s not really what we planned and I’m sorry, I really am, but I do. I love you, and I want to be with you. I want to bond with you. I want to be _yours_.”

Sid wants to say something – anything – but he…he _can’t_ . He cares about Travis, more than he ever thought he would, but he _can’t_. Can’t give Travis what he wants, can’t be what he needs. They were heat-compatible, that was all this was supposed to be. Someone to have a good time with, ride out heats and ruts, and then go on with their lives. He’d known it was a bad idea to move beyond that, push the boundaries. He was the older one, the alpha, and he’d let them head in a direction he’d known was dangerous and now here they were, talking love and bonds and everything Sid can’t give Travis. And Travis deserves all of that and more, if that’s what he wants. He deserves someone who can give him all of that, all of themselves to Travis.

And that’s not Sid.

“I-“ Sid clears his throat, shakes his head. “Travis, I’m sorry-“

“I know.” Travis’ voice is rough, wet, and Sid can’t look at him because if he does, he knows he’ll see tears that Sid put there, and he’s not strong enough to withstand that. “I know you don’t want that with me. But I can’t do _this_ , be with you, and know that you don’t want me like that. So…I’m going to go home.”

 _You are home_ Sid’s heart screams at him. _You’re home when you’re with me_.

He doesn’t say anything as Travis walks around him, back into the house. He stays out on the deck to give Travis privacy to collect his things. He also, selfishly, doesn’t want to watch while Travis removes himself from Sid’s home, doesn’t want to watch as the little things that reminded him of Travis – reminded him that Travis was in his home – disappear.

He’s not sure how long he sits out there, his coffee long gone cold, but when he goes back into the living room, he spots Travis’ bags stacked up by the front door. Travis comes downstairs, his eyes red-rimmed, and Sid feels something crack in his chest.

“I got a flight out this afternoon.”

“I can drive you.”

“No.” Travis shakes his head, staring down at the floor. “I called, uh, Taylor. I hope that’s okay.”

“Travis-“

“Please.” Travis’ gaze is pleading and heartbroken, and Sid closes his mouth. He watches as Travis crosses the room, moves toward him with a trepidation that Sid doesn’t think he’s ever seen from him before. When he’s within arm’s reach Sid has to squash every instinct he has to reach out, to pull Travis into the safety of his arms and never let him go. But, he reasons, his hold doesn’t mean safety to Travis, not anymore, so he makes his arms stay by his side. Travis’ hands feel like brands on his skin when he grasps Sid’s bicep, holding him still so he can press a kiss to Sid’s cheek.

“Bye, Sid.”

Sid locks himself away in his house after Travis leaves. Days pass, he works out, he checks in with his team, and not a second goes by that he doesn’t feel the absence of Travis in his home. His scent is still there, on the couch where they’d cuddled under a blanket after dinner; In the bathroom, where Sid can still smell a faint whiff of his body wash. It’s strongest, though, in his bed. Sid’s typically meticulous when it comes to his bed, changing his sheets out constantly, but now he wallows in it. He wraps himself up in the sheets that still carry Travis’ ozone-spice scent that settles the ache in his bones, even if it’s just for a few moments. It _hurts_ , being without Travis, and it’s so achingly familiar to when he and Geno had broken their bond that Sid feels tears burn in his eyes when he lets himself think about it for too long.

He’s not sure how long it’s been when he hears a knocking at his front door. A few weeks, he thinks vaguely, but he’s not surprised to find Taylor on the other side. In fact, he’s shocked it took his sister this long to make her way over to his house.

“You look like crap.” She greets, stepping past him into the house.

“What are you doing here, Taylor?” He shuts the door behind her and follows her into the living room, where she takes in the disheveled mess where there is normally order and tidiness.

“I came to check on you, you missed family dinner twice.”

 _Two weeks then_. Sid’s brain supplies.

“I’ve been busy.”

“Busy letting your life fall apart?” Taylor chirps, and Sid whirls on her.

“Why the fuck are you here, Taylor? Because if it’s just to tell me that I look like shit and my house is a mess you can just leave.”

“Sid…” Taylor reaches out, drops her hand on Sid’s shoulder, and it’s the first touch he’s had in weeks and Taylor smells familiar, like family, and he curls into her instinctively. He lets her guide him to the couch, tucking his face into her shoulder, and it’s only when they’re sitting still that he realizes that he’s shaking. She pets his head, soothing coos low and quiet, and Sid feels himself slowly relax under her care.

“Sid, what happened?” She asks, soft, and Sid pulls away enough that he can look at her.

“He didn’t tell you?”

“Of course not. He just asked me to drive him to the airport. I figured something happened between the two of you, but I wasn’t really that worried until I saw you. Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really.” Sid replies quickly. “I really messed up.”

“Can you fix it?”

“No. I don’t think so.”

“Have you tried?”

Sid shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter. We want different things.”

“Sid, I saw the way that he looks at you. We all did. You could fix it, if you wanted to.”

“I can’t. Not this.”

“Do you love him?” She asks, getting to the core of the argument like she has since she was old enough to argue with Sid.

“I…” Sid wants to say _no_ , that he never let it get that far, but he can’t get the words out. He shakes his head, but the way Taylor tugs on his hair tells him that she knows he’s lying.

“He loves you. He made you happy. I haven’t seen you that happy in years.” _Since Geno,_ she doesn’t say, but Sid hears it. “I would give a lot for you to be that happy all the time, Squid.”

She pushes him out of her arms and bundles him toward the stairs.

“I’m going to clean up this mess and make us some dinner. You go shower, you stink Sidney.”

A small smile graces Sid’s face for the first time in weeks.

Taylor stays for dinner, a couple of beers shared between them before she leaves him with a tight hug around his neck.

“Love you, Squidward.”

“Love you, too.” Sid lets her grab his face between her hands, chuckling when she shakes it.

“Real happiness in this world is hard to come by these days, Sid. You should let yourself have it, if it’s within reach. If anyone deserves it, it’s you.”

Sid strips the bed that night, puts fresh sheets on, and dreams of Travis.

He waits a couple of days, shaves the mess on his face that he called a beard, and settles into his favorite chair before he pulls up the contacts on his phone. It’s a familiar number, but one he’s used with less and less frequency the last few years. He thinks about just calling, but he feels like he needs to do this face-to-face, so he takes a deep breath and hits the FaceTime button. It rings for a few long moments, and Sid thinks about hanging up before Geno’s familiar face fills his screen.

“Sid!” He greets, his smile wide. “You just do check in few days ago. You do again?”

“No, this isn’t a team thing. I, uh…wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Sure, sure. Oh, wait, someone want say hi.” Geno disappears from the screen and Sid hears a rustling before Geno’s son appears in his arms.

“Uncle Sid!” Nikita cheers, and Sid can’t help the smile that blooms on his face.

“Hey, Nicky! You’ve been good?”

“Uh-huh! I gonna be four!”

“That’s crazy! I wish I could be there for your birthday.”

“You still send present!” Nikita demands, and Sid nods seriously.

“Of course, I will. The best birthday boy deserves the best presents.”

“Okay, say goodbye Uncle Sid.” Geno tells him, and Sid waves back when Nikita waves before climbing off of Geno’s lap and running away. “He miss you.”

“I miss him, too. I miss everyone.”

“But I think this not why you call.”

“No, it’s not.” Sid sighs, leans further back in the chair. “I, uh, I’ve been seeing someone.”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“You don’t sound surprised.” Sid frowns when Geno shakes his head and chuckles.

“I’m know you better than most, Sid. Can tell when you happy, more happy than normal.”

“Oh.”

“Also, I see you leave with Konecny after game.”

“You…really? You didn’t say anything.”

“It not my business. If you want me know, you tell me. You not tell, so I not say.”

“Oh.” Sid says again, and Geno smiles.

“You bond with him?”

“Why does everyone keep asking me that?” Sid grumbles, shaking his head. “No, I didn’t bond with him. And I…I screwed up.”

“You tell me? Zhenya best help, very romantic.” Sid rolls his eyes, but with a fondness that comes from years of how close he and Geno have been.

“I…we were dating. I told him I didn’t want to bond, and he said okay. He came here with me when the pause started, and then…he went into heat pretty soon after we got here, and he asked me to claim him.”

“And you say no.”

“Yeah, and I thought that we were okay, then he overheard me talking to my mom a few days later and the next day he told me that he meant it, that he wanted to bond, that he…that he loved me.”

“And you still say no?”

“Of course.”

“Why ‘of course’? You love him, Sid?” Geno doesn’t wait for an answer that Sid’s not sure he can give. “You not bring someone to home you not love. Why not bond with someone when there is love?”

“I don’t want to bond with anyone.” Geno’s quiet, and Sid can feel him staring him down through the phone.

“Is because we break bond?” Sid doesn’t answer again and Geno shakes his head. “Sid…”

“It’s not the reason.” Sid pauses, knowing even years later he can’t lie to Geno. “Not the only reason, anyway.”

“You deserve be happy, Sid.”

“I know that.” Sid snaps.

“Do you?” Geno pushes. “We break bond because we not make each other happy, not give what other wants. If you find someone who give what you need, make you happy, why you not want this?”

“Because…” Sid starts, stops, and Geno just sits there waiting. He’s never told Geno the extent of his suffering when they broke their bond, unwilling to inflict that guilt on Geno when Geno had been the one brave enough to go after what he wanted in life. He liked Anna and he loved Nikita and he had always been genuinely happy for Geno, that he had found what he had been looking for.

“Because…” Sid tries again. “Because if I bonded with someone, and they left, I don’t think I could survive it again.”

“Oh, Sid.”

“I don’t want you to feel bad.” Sid tells him quickly. “It’s not about that. What happened was for the best. It’s just…it was hard, when we broke our bond. Really hard.”

“Was hard for me, too.” Geno admits. “Thought we always together, always play hockey together, grow old together. Break my heart when bond broken, but I’m realize something.”

“Yeah?”

“We still get all those things, even after no more bond. We still play hockey, we still grow old together, because we best friends.”

Sid feels a lump grow in his throat at Geno’s words. They may not be in love anymore, but he does _love_ Geno, always will, and to have Geno confirm that it goes both ways settles something inside of Sid.

“Yeah, we are.” Sid confirms, and Geno shrugs.

“So, I’m not understand why you so afraid. You Sidney Crosby, you not afraid of anything in all years I’m know you. When we bond, is good, yes? Make you happy?”

“Yes.”

“When I’m bond with Anna, it different from bond with you. But good different. Make me happy in way I’m not sure I’m have again. If you not bond with him because of me, because what happen to us, I’m very sad. Make me regret bond with you for first time ever.”

“Geno…”

“You bring him into your home, real home, let him meet parents, meet Little Crosby. That seem love to me. You love your Flyer, yes? Then why you stop bond that make you both happy?”

“He probably doesn’t want that anymore.”

“How you know this? You ask? No.” Sid shakes his head and Geno sighs. “You not assume, Sid. You have to ask.”

“He went home, back to Ontario.”

“So? Go after him.”

“We’re in the middle of a pandemic, Geno.”

“You see anyone else in weeks? No? Go to him, Sid.”

“I’ll think about it.”

And Sid does think about it, all through his workout and his phone calls and his dinner. Thinks about it until his head aches and his heart hurts. He finally pulls out his phone again, scrolling through for a number he uses only when he absolutely has to.

**Sid**

_I need your help_.

**Claude Giroux**

_Oh this should be interesting._

**Sid**

_Can you get me the address for Travis’ house in Port Stanley?_

**Claude Giroux**

_Why do you need Teeks address???_

**Sid**

_I’m the alpha he’s been with. I need to make something right._

Giroux doesn’t reply for a long time, so long that Sid feels the low-simmering anxiety in his gut flare to life. He forces himself to take a shower to distract himself, and he nearly collapses with relief when he checks his phone and finds an address.

**Sid**

_Thank you._

**Claude Giroux**

_If you break his heart I WILL hurt you. Severely. No one will find your body._

Sid doesn’t reply. He books a flight.

The flight only takes him a few hours, but it feels like days to Sid. The plane is practically empty, no one seems to recognize Sid – he’s starting to think this whole ‘always wear a mask’ thing might not be so bad – and he’s able to land in London and rent a car with little hassle. It’s eerie, how empty the roads are, and it takes less time than Sid had hoped for him to drive from London to Port Stanley. He’d been thinking about what he wanted to say to Travis from the moment he’d booked the tickets and started packing. But now, as he passed the “Welcome to Port Stanley” sign and made his way closer and closer to his destination, the tight knot of anxiety in the pit of his stomach bloomed into something that flooded his body with adrenaline, made his hands shaky and his breathing heavy.

Travis’ house was modest, unassuming, functional, but even from the outside it made Sid think of Travis. There was one lone truck parked in the driveway, and Sid exhaled at the knowledge that Travis was most likely alone. This wasn’t a conversation that he wanted to have with an audience, and he’d had a nagging fear the whole trip that Giroux had sounded the Flyers alarm and he or Patrick or _someone_ would be there. He pulls the rental in the driveway behind Travis’ truck and sits there gripping the wheel long enough that his knuckles turn white and he loses himself in his thoughts. He feels eyes on him, though, and when he looks up to the porch Travis is watching him, arms crossed over his chest as he leans against a post and waits. Sid locks eyes with him and his chest aches, longing taking root in his heart as he stares up at him. He looks relaxed and at home, baggy shorts and a ripped sleeveless t-shirt, backwards cap over his long, straggly hair. He’s got the hints of what might be a beard on his chin.

Sid thinks he might be the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

It’s this thought that has him taking a deep breath, forcing himself out of the car. Travis watches him the entire time, like prey tracking an approaching predator, sensing for danger, so Sid tries to make himself as non-threatening as possible. He sticks his hands in his pockets, keeps his head down, and waits at the bottom of the stairs.

“What are you doing here?” Travis asks, and hearing his voice for the first time in weeks makes Sid wants to throw himself up the stairs and wrap himself up in the familiar tone.

“I needed to talk to you.”

“They have these things called phones now.”

“I needed…I wanted to see you.”

“Why?”

“Travis-“

“I don’t think we have anything to talk about, Sid.” Travis sighs, and Sid looks up and really _sees_ Travis for the first time in weeks and he looks exhausted, worn down, and Sid can’t help but think that he caused that. “It’s okay. We want different things-“

“No, we don’t.” Sid interrupts, and the faint whisper of ozone-spice he can pick up turns sharp. “Can we talk inside?” Travis studies him, then nods and turns his back to Sid, walking inside but leaving the door open. Sid is overwhelmed when he steps inside, Travis’ scent covering every inch of his home. Sid wants to cry, wants to wrap himself up in it, rub his own scent over every inch of it until no one can tell their scents apart. Wants to stake his claim, make sure anyone who enters Travis’ space knows that he _belongs to someone_. Sid watches as Travis heads straight for the kitchen, grabbing two beers from the fridge and setting one on the counter, presumably for Sid.

“What are you doing here?” Travis asks again, and Sid notices that Travis keeps the kitchen island between them, a barrier that Travis has put up to keep himself safe, and Sid hates himself for making Travis feel like he needs it – that he needs to kept safe _from_ Sid instead of Sid _keeping_ him safe. He takes the beer but doesn’t open it, holding it so he has something other than how close and how far Travis is from him.

“I want to apologize, for how I handled things. Not just in Cole Harbour, but from the beginning. I wasn’t honest with you about a lot of things. And you were so open, about everything, and I just shut you down.”

“You didn’t. You told me what you weren’t looking for. It’s my fault for, I don’t know, catching feelings. I asked you for the exact thing you told me you couldn’t give, that wasn’t fair.”

“I love you.” Sid hadn’t meant to blurt it out like that, had planned on talking to Travis like the adults that they were. He stares down at the bottle in his hands, can’t bring himself to look at Travis. “I’m in love with you.”

Sid looks up when he hears Travis expel a shaky breath, finds his eyes wide as he clings to the counter as if he needs it to hold himself up.

“Sid…”

“Wait.” Sid pleads, and Travis’ mouth snaps shut. “You’ve been the brave one here, it’s my turn. Just…let me get this out?” Travis nods, and Sid thinks he might see something like hope flare in his eyes.

“When I broke my bond with Geno, it…it hurt so much. More than I ever let anyone know. So, I told myself I never wanted to go through that again, which meant that I never wanted to bond again. And I was fine, for a long time, but then I met you. And we were so compatible from the start, not just during heat, and it scared me. And then I thought that you were with Patrick, and that hurt too, but then we were dating, and I thought ‘this is enough,’ you know? I could have this, with you, and still be able to protect myself. But you…you got past all of my walls without me even noticing. And then you asked to bond, for me to claim you, and it made me realize how much I wanted that. I was so in love with you and I hadn’t even realized it had happened. And I panicked, because…because you’re so young, Trav. What if…what if you wake up one day and realize that I’m not what you want? That I can’t give you what you need the same way I couldn’t give Geno what he needed? That I’m not enough? What I feel for you, it’s _so much_ , and I don’t think I’d survive it if I had you – really had you – and then lost you.”

Sid can see that Travis wants to say something, but for once in his life he stays quiet and Sid takes a deep breath before continuing.

“And then you left anyway, because I was too afraid to say something. I lost you anyway and it hurt just as much, all because I was too fucking scared to go after what I want.”

“And what do you want?” Travis finally asks, his breaths coming in fast pants as he watches Sid. His scent is overwhelming Sid, comforting him but lighting him up at the same time. Sid musters the last bit of courage he has and locks eyes with Travis from across the island.

“I want you to be mine.”

Travis’ breaths turn to a gasp, and he rounds the island and throws himself into Sid’s arms. Something cracks in Sid’s chest, then settles as he wraps his arms around Travis’ shoulder. Travis burrows his face into Sid’s neck, his lips pressed against Sid’s neck, obviously scenting him, and Sid can only tighten his hold.

“You mean it?” Travis asks, not moving away from Sid’s skin, so Sid feels it more than he hears it. He hates that Travis doubts him, but he can’t blame him. He drops a kiss to the side of Travis’s head and then leans his cheek against it.

“I love you.” He tells him again, and he feels Travis sag against him minutely. “If you’re in, I’m in.”

Travis smiles against his skin.

Later that night, Sid moves inside Travis, hovers above him and watches every reaction, every gasp, the way he smiles – soft and fond – at Sid every time he catches him staring.

“See you something you like?” He smirks, and Sid pushes back a lock of hair from Travis’ face. He’s everything he never thought he would want, and Sid _loves_ him, more than he ever thought possible.

“Something I love.” He replies, and Travis rolls his eyes at the cheesy response, but Sid also watches his cheeks pink up. Sid leans down, runs his nose along the reddened skin, drops soft kisses across Travis’ face. “Are you ready?” He asks, and Travis gasps and nods.

Sid pulls back enough that he can watch as Travis leans his head back, bares his neck for Sid. Sid’s heart stutters in his chest, his thrusts into Travis go erratic, Travis’ legs tighten around him as he scents Travis’ neck, instincts guiding him to the perfect spot, where Travis’ neck meets his shoulder. Sid sets his teeth over the spot, hears Travis gasp when he presses them against his skin. He pauses, gives Travis enough time to tell him to stop in case he’s changed his mind.

“What are you waiting for?” Travis grumbles, threading a hand through Sid’s curls and pressing him into Travis’ neck. “Bite me already.”

Sid sinks his teeth in and feels the bond they’ve been slowly building for months flare to life.


	3. Epilogue

_Fall 2020_

It’s opening night. Hockey is back – _finally_ – and Travis is vibrating with energy. Patty watches him from the stall next to him – _Patty’s finally back_ – and Travis knows that Patty wants to manhandle him to stay in his seat, but he _can’t_ . They didn’t get to finish last season, and Travis had been sure, _so sure_ , but now they’ve got a new chance, a new shot, and Travis just knows in his bones that this is their year. Hartsy has control of the music, and he’s blasting some techno hip-hop bullshit but that doesn’t stop Travis from bopping in place, shoving at Patty’s shoulder until his best friend smiles that special TK smile back at him.

“Hey, Tikibar!” Hayesey yells, tossing a roll of stick tape at him. “That mysterious alpha of yours gonna be here tonight?”

Travis’ hand immediately goes to his neck, where Sid’s mark has faded but he can still feel the ghost of it, always there to remind him that Sid is his, that they belong to each other. His team had been able to tell that something was different when he’d arrived for training camp. He knew that he smelled different, now that he had been bonded, some mix of his and Sid’s scents that told every alpha that he was claimed. The thought always made him smile, always made him think of Sid and the months they’d had together to cement the bond – first in Port Stanley and then back in Cole Harbour – to let it grow deeper and stronger until they could feel it even when Travis was in Philly and Sid was in Pittsburgh. It sucked, being away from his alpha for weeks on end, but they’d sat down in Sid’s home in Cole Harbour when the season’s schedule came out and worked out all the times they’d be able to travel to see each other. Now that they were bonded they could tell the league, ask for one of them to be traded, it was their right, but they had both agreed that it wasn’t something they wanted. Sid wanted to retire a Penguin, and Travis was a Flyer, and that was that.

They could handle a few years apart when they had the rest of their lives to be together.

“Nah, he’s not here.” Travis shrugs, but he rubs the bond again when he thinks of how badly he wants to see Sid.

They skate out to a roaring home crowd, just as ecstatic to have them back after so long. There’s masks everywhere in the crowd, but they’re still here and just as raucous as ever in a sea of orange.

Travis assists Patty on the opening goal, and the crowd loses their mind. Travis does too, grabbing Patty’s helmet and screaming as the rest of the team on the ice pile on them. It’d been so long, they’d been so unsure about whether or not Patty would even be able to come back, and now the crowd is chanting ‘Patrick’ and Travis is pretty sure Patty’s eyes are wet as they skate back to the bench.

Halfway through the second period the camera pans up to the press box, and Travis gasps when he sees Sid sitting there next to the GM. The crowd boos him, of course, but Sid good-naturedly waves and throws his hands up in a ‘what can you do?’ gesture as he laughs.

“What the fuck is Crosby doing here?” Coots yells, and Travis ducks his head to hide his smile.

They destroy the Devils, and Travis is riding high on that and the knowledge that Sid is here as he showers as quickly as humanly possible. He checks his phone as he’s getting dressed, finding a text from Sid waiting for him.

**Babe**

_I’m outside the locker room whenever you’re ready._

Travis replies with a heart emoji and changes back into his game day suit. He slips out and finds Sid trying to look as incognito as possible, head down and tapping away on his phone.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

“Wasn’t sure if I was going to be able to make it.” Sid shrugs, pocketing his phone. “And then I wanted to surprise you.”

“They’re all wondering why you’re here.” Travis gestures back to the room.

“Do you want to tell them? We can, if you want.”

“Really?” Travis glances around them. When he finds the hallway empty, he slips his hand into Sid’s.

“Yeah, of course. They’re important to you. We can tell my guys, too, if that’s okay with you.”

“Yeah, yeah, I want to.” Travis leans in and kisses Sid, quick and chaste but grounding. He pulls Sid behind him, his hand tight in Sid’s, and the locker room goes quiet when they notice them standing together. Travis entwines his fingers with Sid’s, and Sid gives him a reassuring squeeze back.

“Uh, so…” Travis begins, but is cut off by Hayesey, of course.

“Holy fucking shit!” He booms, the biggest smile on his face as he points across the room at them. “Sidney Crosby’s your mysterious fucking bondmate!”

Travis nods, Sid grins, and the locker room erupts into chaos.

Travis just holds onto Sid’s hand and braces himself. 


End file.
